Don't Waste It
by 21h21
Summary: Spashley, AU. "Have you ever just felt the need to make a change all of a sudden? It’s like that." Loner Spencer has a crush, and Ashley finally clues in, but it isn't exactly smooth sailing from there.
1. Prologue

**A/N: This one's been sitting on my computer for a while, completely finished, and I admit, I'm a little hesitant to put it on here. But I figured I'd go ahead and put the first chapter up to see if anyone is interested in reading. This chapter is more of a preview/introduction and it's kind of short, just to kind of establish the setting/situation/characters and all that stuff. I do have a couple warnings/notices about this story, and here they are:**

**1. The first two chapters were originally written in third person because I wanted to try that point of view, but I quickly found that it was just not for me. For some reason, I can't write femslash in third person because of all the "she"s and it just ends up aggravating me because I'm never sure the reader can tell which girl I'm talking about. First person makes that a lot easier, obviously, so I just kind of took the time and converted the first two chapters into first person, then proceeded to continue on with writing the story. Unfortunately, this makes the first two chapters a little hard/awkward to read (at least for me) for some reason, but I don't know, maybe you guys will find it easier. I just figured I should mention this so that if anyone is bothered by the way the first two chapters are written because it just seems awkward to you, you now know that that's going to change with the beginning of chapter three. **

**2. I don't want to spoil so I won't give out any details, but I will say that although the odds are low, this may deal with/reference a topic that hits home for some people (but like I said, I think the odds are extremely low, and let me stress the word "extremely"). But I still figured a general warning would be appropriate, although I'm pretty sure most people should be okay since it's just a story and personally I think I handled the topic pretty delicately. Also, I am not an expert on this topic so if I screwed some things up, I apologize in advance. I did do my research, though, so I tried :)**

**3. This is rated M mostly for language, except for the last chapter, where it's the good kind of M ;)**

**Anywho, guess what? I got the idea for this story in the weirdest way: I just pulled up a word document, put my Ipod on shuffle, and typed out the first eight songs that came up. Then I used them for inspiration! And this is what I ended up writing. I tried doing it again to see what the hell I'd come up with the second time around and I got songs like "Lipgloss" by Lil Mama and "Circus" by Britney Spears (ahem...not that those were on my Ipod or anything). Ah, well, guess it was a one-time thing. If anyone wants to know the eight songs, I'll gladly post them as the story moves along whenever it's convenient (some songs will give stuff away so I'll have to wait). **

**Anyway, for those of you who have not been dissuaded by the idea of a possibly crap first two chapters, my warning about sensitive topics, or the one-hundred percent chance of M-rated Spashley smut (gasp!), onward to the story! It's another one in Ashley's POV 'cause I'm a sucker for lovestruck/confused Ashley and oblivious/sweet Spencer. Except this one's got a twist or two, so look out!**

* * *

I hate life.

Well, it's not so much life itself I hate; I rather like living, actually…but really just _my _life.

It's boring, and I've begun to lose interest in doing the same thing every day, but I figure that's kind of what happens when you're rich: you lose your motivation to do anything. And I haven't ever exactly been the most motivated person ever anyway, but give a lazy person millions of dollars, and all you get is an even lazier person. So I go to school every day in my six-figure car, stay semi-conscious in my classes, and occasionally talk to the people that call themselves my friends: Aiden Dennison, Madison Duarte, and the rest of the jocks and cheerleaders.

Mostly, they're all pretty boring, except Aiden, who's okay for an occasional fuck now and then, although I'm rather partial to girls because they're softer and they know what they're doing (not that my friends know this), and so I don't really do that much talking during the day anyway, which makes sleeping a lot easier and pretty convenient.

And then there's this girl. Spencer Carlin is her name, I'm pretty sure, and in those rare cases where I'm awake and aware of what's going on around me, I catch her staring at me. We have almost every class together, so I figure maybe after one glimpse she'd realize that I pretty much look the same every day or would just take a picture or something, but no, Spencer keeps on staring, and half the time I wonder if maybe I have something on my face. But I don't want to check with my hand or a mirror because then I might look stupid, so I just spend my time feeling self-conscious or embarrassed instead.

Sometimes I go to Aiden's after school, when I'm horny and don't feel like hitting up a club for some drunk chick, and we fuck, and I feel kind of dirty afterwards, partially because Aiden's dating Madison and I feel a bit like a home wrecker, but partially because Aiden's a guy, and he's a guy who I know would dump Madison in a second if I were to tell him that fucking him means something to me. But both Aiden and I know it doesn't, and Aiden's always been a bit of a whore anyway, so he stays with Madison, and Madison stays clueless, and everyone stays pretty happy that way as far as I can tell.

When I don't go to Aiden's, I either go to some club or just head straight home. My house is more of a mansion than a house, and my mom, Christine, is more of a bitch than a mother, which means our maid, who I often come home to every afternoon, can hardly speak English. I have the power to fire our maids, but I've learned by now not to, because Christine will just hire another one that knows even less English. This wouldn't be a problem if I didn't sleep in Spanish class, but I do, so it is.

My dad, Raife, is only home on the weekends, and he is such a teenage boy on the inside that he and I get along better than he and Christine do. He's the lead singer of a famous band, but they don't tour that often anymore so he spends more time at home than he used to. I can remember being five and looking forward to Christmas because I could finally see my father, not because of the many presents I was going to get. His only major fault is that, like Aiden, he's a bit of a whore, and I have overheard my parents talking about some half-sister of mine that lives across the country in Baltimore, but I know we'll never meet, and by now it's had time to sink in that I have a sister, so at this point I don't really care. My dad loves me more, anyway, and that's all that really matters.

Despite the money and the clubbing and the sex and the secret sister, though, I still find my life boring. And so I figure I should mix things up a bit. I mean, have you ever just felt the need to make a change all of a sudden? It's like that.

I think back on my average day at school, even walk myself through it in my mind, and think about what I could do to change things up, what I could do differently to my day to make things more interesting.

My first thought is that I could kiss Aiden in front of Madison or something, because even though Madison is my friend, she and I are both sort of bitches so I could probably do it without remorse and Madison would deserve it, but then I decide that that's the kind of thing that creates a lot of drama, and there's already enough of that in high school. Sure, I'm bored, but having Madison up my ass all the time would just make my life suck more than it already does. And Aiden would get the wrong idea and he'd be all over me too and then it would just be annoying.

So anyway, I'm in second period, half-asleep like usual in the back of the classroom, when I catch Spencer Carlin staring at me again, and since it's aggravating enough anyway and I've kind of always wanted to say something, I decide I know what to change for today. "Hey, what the hell are you always looking at me for?"

I mean, I'm not exactly expecting this to change my life forever or anything, but at least it's a start.


	2. Why Are You Sitting With Her?

**A/N: I'm glad the first chapter wasn't too confusing; hopefully this one won't be either! And of course I'm glad that people are interested in reading this.**

**As for Ashden sex (bleh) references, they will be as infrequent as possible. This story's already finished and thinking back, I can only pinpoint one scene in the entire story with a strong references towards it. There might be another, but it's small if I can't even remember it. And of course there won't be any detail AT ALL, because Ashden is gross and I would never put myself through having to write it, let alone make you guys read it. There are zero Ashden sex scenes, that I can guarantee. And as an added bonus...no Ashden kisses! At all. Promise :)**

**mars - "No wonder your life sucks, Ashley. You're friends with Madison, sleeping with Aiden, and not talking to Spencer. Fix it." This review made me laugh so hard that I'm including it in this author's note. Things will definitely be fixed!**

**Warning for this chapter: I like both chapters one and three better than this one for some reason. But this chapter's pretty necessary so I guess I have make do and post it anyway.**

**Anyways...I don't own SON, Tom Lynch does, blah blah blah...chapta two!**

_

* * *

_

_"Hey, what the hell are you always looking at me for?"_

I say it quietly enough that the teacher can't hear it, and Spencer just shifts slightly, blinking in surprise and looking confused. So I try again.

"Yeah, you. You think I haven't noticed? Well, I have."

Spencer's cheeks turn red and she looks away quickly, and I frown, now in an even worse mood than I already was, because this Spencer girl is probably a real bitch just like everyone else at King High and is probably staring at me because I'm a girl who happens to like other girls and maybe she's managed to notice, and I contemplate making a comment about how this is the twenty-first century and Spencer's closed-minded ass can get the hell over it, but then the bell rings and it's time for me to go to my next class. I can't decide whether I'm more pissed off that I don't get a chance to chew Spencer Carlin out or that commenting on the girl's staring really doesn't have a huge affect on my day.

But while I'm lazy, I don't give up when I really put my mind to something, and I decide that I'm going to find out whether Spencer Carlin is homophobic or just some kind of freak, just to give myself something to do. So the next day, I try again, during that one class where Spencer and I sit close enough to be in talking range without alerting the teacher.

"What's your name?"

Once again, I say it when I catch her staring at me, and once again, Spencer looks confused. I already know her name, of course, but I figure it's a way to start a conversation. I sigh when the confused look is the only response I get. "Yes, you." Must I say this every time I address this girl? "What's your name?" I repeat, in case she's stupid and has already forgotten my question.

"Um…Spencer Carlin."

I'm a bit proud of myself for having the name completely right in the first place, but now that I have the question answered, I haven't really thought ahead any further. So I decide on the spot to introduce myself, although Spencer kind of stares at me every day so she probably already knows my name. I realize this, but like before, I'm just making conversation. "I'm Ashley Davies."

"I know."

"Yeah. I figured." I don't really know where that comment comes from, but I kind of regret it because Spencer's cheeks go pink again and then she turns away and goes back to paying attention to the teacher, and I realize I've probably embarrassed the girl, but then I wonder why the hell Spencer stares so much if she's embarrassed that I notice. Naturally, if you spend all your time watching someone, they're going to catch you at it, no matter how discreet you are. And at this point I'm leaning towards the possibility that Spencer Carlin is just a freak.

But I'm having fun trying to figure this girl out, and it's a nice little challenge to work on between fucking Aiden behind Madison's back and teaching the maid English, although the latter is kind of fun in some cases (and the former almost _never _is). I like to show the maid a picture of my mom, point, and slowly say "bitch" until she finally gets it. Unfortunately, after that the maid is fired and I have to do it all over again with the new one. Christine is baffled at the continuous pattern, though, which only makes it more entertaining for me.

So this weekend, my dad comes to visit, and I enjoy the highlight of my week when he takes me to a System of a Down concert on Saturday, but then Monday comes and I begin Day Three of my plan to crack the inner workings of Spencer Carlin's mind. I've spent all weekend planning my next move, and I'm ready to put the plan into action.

Except Spencer doesn't come to school today, actually, and it majorly puts me off, and I realize then how much I've been looking forward to this, and how boring my day is again now that I can't spend second period bugging Spencer. I also realize that I really know absolutely nothing about this girl, like if she has friends or siblings who would be able to tell me where she is and why she's not at school.

I spend that day asking around about her instead, as casually as I can manage, and I find out that she has two brothers named Glen and Clay. I recognize Glen's name and wonder why I never made the connection between his last name and Spencer's, especially since I see him pretty often and they kind of look similar. He's on the basketball team and talks to Aiden sometimes, but other than that, I don't really know him personally. Clay, on the other hand, is apparently a huge nerd and is adopted, and I know immediately that I have never even talked to him before and probably never will because he is what my friends consider a loser. Then again, so is Spencer, but I'm deciding to disregard that because I'm on a mission.

Spencer doesn't come to school Tuesday, either, which only frustrates me more, but luckily, my plan is back on track on Wednesday, although Spencer still looks a little under the weather, but I don't particularly care because I'm is more interested in what's going on in Spencer's mind rather than how her body is holding up. Still, I decide to be polite. "Hey, why'd you miss two days of school?" Or as polite as I can be, anyway.

Spencer's head turns so fast she nearly gets whiplash, and I can't help thinking that that looks like it hurt even as Spencer is giving me another one of her "did you really just talk to me?" looks. And I sigh in frustration, repeating again, "_Yes_, you. Every time I talk to someone in this class, it's you. Have you ever seen me fucking talking to anyone else?" Spencer shakes her head so dumbly that I almost laugh even though I'm aggravated and more than a little frustrated. "Alright, so were you sick or something?"

Spencer swallows, and I watch her do it, can even see the way her throat moves a little during the action, but my eyes quickly jump back up to hers as she replies, "Something like that."

"So you're better now, then," I state, even though Spencer doesn't look like she is, and she nods anyway, though, so I disregard how she might look at the moment. "Okay, cool. So back to why you stare at me…" I can practically see her cheeks changing color again, and that's usually when she turns around and doesn't reply, but I don't want that to happen today, and so I blurt out, "Is it because I'm into chicks?" Given the fact that I've never told anyone else from my high school this, Spencer's reaction is expected.

She looks so surprised that the pink fades from her cheeks instantly, and she hurriedly whispers, "No! That's not it at all." But at the same time, something tells me she's not as surprised as she could have been.

I nod, glad I don't have to beat this girl up for being a homophobe, and I let her turn back around and don't bug her for the rest of class. I'm not too worried about her telling anyone the whole thing about me liking girls because I never see her talking anyway. Why the hell would she feel the need to start _now_?

I really don't like my 4th period because it's Home Economics, which, in my opinion, is basically housewife class. And even though the class has a reputation for being full of girls, which I like of course, it's pretty boring, and my maids are always going to cook for me anyway, so I don't really need to learn anything in there.

So I skip the class today and go to the library instead, because I don't feel like having to go get my car and drive somewhere, and the library is the easiest place to spend my time in if I'm not in class.

When I get there, Spencer is sitting at a table, reading, which furthers my theory that she's a freak just like her brother Clay. But I sit down at the same table anyway, and barely get a glimpse of the book she's buried in before I question, "So what'cha reading?"

She jumps and then slams the book shut loudly enough to wake the seventy-year-old librarian, Ms. Wrinkles (no, really, that's her name), and I jerk back in surprise, glad I'm able to officially come to an accurate conclusion: Yes, Spencer Carlin is simply a freak who likes to read and stare at people. Mission complete.

"Nothing," she says hastily, immediately hiding the book, and I grin, glad I already have something else to occupy my time. This Spencer girl is just full of entertainment. Time to find out what the hell she was reading.

"Alright, give me the book," I sigh, holding my hand out expectantly, even though I'm not really expecting her to give up this easily. Actually, I'm already preparing myself to tackle her and pry the book from her hands, because, luckily, Ms. Wrinkles has gone back to sleep. To my surprise, though, Spencer slowly raises the book and places it in my hand, and _not_ to my surprise, she's blushing again. "Um…thanks," I say awkwardly, glancing down and then raising an eyebrow when I see the title: _GLBTQ: The Survival Guide for Queer and Questioning Teens_.

Interesting.

Even as I'm returning the book to an extremely embarrassed Spencer, smirking all the while, I'm realizing that I've been wrong the whole time. She isn't homophobic, or a freak, or even that much of a nerd.

She's gay, and I'm probably her first crush.

And I can't help but feel flattered enough that I decide I'm going to keep talking to her. After all, I've fucked plenty of lesbians, but I've never been _friends _with one before. And even though I still think Spencer's kind of weird, I have a feeling she might be nice, too. And I've never really had a nice friend before, either.

I sit with Spencer the next day at lunch, pretty much out of nowhere, and not only take shit from _her_ for it (if one raised eyebrow and a confused look could be considered shit), but also from my regular "friends", who of course are wondering what the hell I'm doing sitting with the loser who normally eats alone every day.

"Ash, what the hell? Why aren't you sitting with us?" Madison asks me when she finally gets her skirt-clad ass up from the popular table and comes to visit me at Spencer's table. Aiden is right behind her.

"Well, I figured I needed a change," I tell her calmly, and it's the complete truth. The populars get pretty boring after a while, and frankly, I like having Spencer stare at me more than I like having Aiden stare at me. They're _both _staring at me right now, though, and it's kind of awkward.

"A change? What the hell does that even mean?"

I shrug, because I don't really know, and then say so. "I don't know."

"Do you even know this girl?" Madison questions, clearly aggravated, and the corners of my lips tug upwards as I watch my supposed best friend gesture vaguely to Spencer.

"Yeah, that's Spencer. Spencer Carlin," I say, just because I know it will annoy Madison. "Spencer, this is Madison Duarte."

It doesn't surprise me that Spencer doesn't say anything, because apparently she never really does talk to anyone anyway, but what _does _surprise me is when Madison sighs and then stomps away with Aiden in tow, then returns a minute later with her lunch tray and plops down on my other side. Aiden sits down next to Madison, and shrugs when I shoot him a questioning look, and the rest of lunch is unbelievably awkward.

I'm also kind of surprised that throughout the entire forty-five minutes we're allotted to eat, I find myself wishing Aiden and Madison would go away so I could spend some time with Spencer.

It must just be because I've finally found another girl who likes girls to talk to, I figure, because I'm starting to rethink my opinion of Spencer once again. Just because she's gay doesn't mean she can't be a freak, too, after all. So maybe she's both. Or maybe I'm just over-thinking things and I should just lay back and see what kind of shenanigans I can get into by hanging out with her. She's kind of intriguing, somehow.

Madison, Aiden, and Spencer all seem just as shocked the next day when I sit with Spencer at lunch again, and just like before, Madison and Aiden join us at Spencer's table while I wonder why the fact that I'm eating with her again is so surprising. She's not _that _bad. Today, Aiden decides to try and make conversation.

"So…I know your brother."

There's a long silence, until Spencer finally realizes that _Aiden Dennison_, one of the best basketball players on the King High team, is actually talking to her. I have to try hard to keep from rolling my eyes, because it's aggravating that she seems to think we're all so above her. Even if Madison and Aiden happen to think that. At least Aiden is _trying_, though, but I can't help thinking it's probably because I haven't had sex with him in a week and he thinks this will get him back in my good graces. "Oh…which one?"

"You have two?" Aiden replies dumbly, and I have to try hard not to roll my eyes once again, even though I didn't know Spencer had _any _siblings up until a week ago.

"Yeah."

"Well, I know Glen."

Spencer sighs for some reason, then mumbles, "Figures."

"Hmm?" Aiden questions, but she just shrugs in response, and it's my turn to sigh, because now I have a question.

"Why don't you ever talk?"

Spencer's eyes flicker over to me, then drop back down to her food, almost shyly. I smile a little when I remember that she's probably acting so nervous because she still has that cute little crush and I probably give her butterflies. I like the idea of that, actually, of giving someone something other than an orgasm. No one's made me feel butterflies, personally, but I've had the feeling described to me by Aiden, and it's one of my favorite memories simply because I still tease him about it constantly. "Never really had anyone to talk to," Spencer mumbles so quietly that I have to strain to hear it.

"And why not?"

She just shrugs again, and I exchange brief looks with Aiden and Madison, before saying, "Well, get used to talking, because we're sitting with you from now on." I don't miss Spencer's pink cheeks, _or _the looks the other two occupants of the table shoot me.

But I don't particularly care about the latter, and decide I'm sticking by my decision to keep hanging out with Spencer Carlin. Because when life is boring, different is good.


	3. Getting Ready

**A/N: So I was actually going to post chapter three last night, but my little brother messed with some wires and screwed up the whole family's internet connection for all of last night and a lot of this morning. Little brothers...ugh. **

**Anyway, I'm actually glad some of you guys think Ashley is too bitchy, because she's supposed to be like that at the beginning. And as for Spencer, she'll definitely come out of her shell a lot more as the story goes on. She just isn't used to having people approach her the way Ashley has. **

* * *

"What are you doing this weekend?"

I ask her this because Dad's had a change of plans and can't come home for once, so I've basically got nothing planned now. But I know Aiden and Madison are throwing a party at Aiden's place and want me to go, so I figure what the hell, why not bring Spencer along for the ride? She doesn't look like she's partied in a while, if ever.

Spencer looks alarmed by my question, which I'm used to by now. She still looks shocked every time I even _look _at her, which annoyed me at first but today I decide it's kind of cute. She's like a bunny, kind of. All nice and sweet but ready to jump up and flee as soon as something or someone makes her nervous. Most recently, that something has been me. But that's okay; I'm enjoying it. She's different from the people I normally hang out with.

"Um…nothing. Why?" I can tell from the way she says it that she contemplated lying for a moment, and that makes my eyebrows furrow. What, she doesn't want to hang out with me? I thought she liked me.

"Well…there's a party tonight I'm going to…" I know she can see where this is going, and I can see her answer written all over her face. Looks like I'm going to have to turn on the charm. "Aiden and Madison are going to be there…and they'll probably be too busy getting drunk and making out to talk to me, so I could use someone to keep me company. Want to be my date?"

Her eyes widen noticeably at that last word, and I have to try not to smirk, keeping my expression innocent instead and waiting for a response.

"Uh…" She opens and closes her mouth a few times, then finally mutters, "I'm pretty sure my parents won't let me go."

I let out a snort before I can help it. "So don't listen to them. Duh. Sneak out."

She sends me a questioning look. "How am I supposed to do that? I don't even have a car."

I think that might be the longest thing she's ever said to me. Well, at least we're making progress. "Well, I do. Tell me where you live and I'll pick you up."

She frowns. "I don't really have anything to wear…"

"Borrow my clothes?" I suggest with raised eyebrows.

She bites her lip. "I've never been to a party before."

I grin at her. "I'll protect you."

And that's all it takes, surprisingly.

Spencer gives me her address and phone number, and I text her when I'm on the way to her house later that night, and she lets me know to park across the street and wait for her to sneak out. I have doubts that she can pull it off, but I'm only sitting in my car for a couple of minutes before I see her slipping out of the front door and closing it behind her. She nearly trips over her own feet on the way to my car, and I snicker to myself, then hastily wipe the smile off of my face when she grows close enough to see it.

"We're going to my house, first," I warn her, glancing down at her outfit as she quickly scrambles into the passenger's seat. "You have to change."

"Alright," she says quietly, without argument, and I raise an eyebrow at her, then shrug to myself, leaning over to turn the radio on.

She grasps my wrist before my hand can get to the power button, shooting me a questioning look. "What are you doing?"

"Uh…turning on the radio," I inform her slowly. There is seriously something wrong with this girl.

"Right when we're about to drive away from my house when my parents don't even know I'm not in my room?"

Ah. Now I kind of see her point.

I withdraw my hand, fighting off the sheepish look I can feel trying to surface on my face. "Oh. Good point."

She sighs to herself as we drive away, and when we've put a decent amount of space between ourselves and Spencer's house, I reach for the radio again. "What kind of music do you listen to?" I ask her.

She shrugs. "I don't really listen to music too often."

I can't help gasping in surprise. Music is practically my _life_. I love it more than anything. Except maybe alcohol. "You've gotta be kidding me."

She shrugs again, biting down on her lip. "I never really have any time to listen to it."

"Yes, you certainly seem like the kind of person who'd be busy all the time," I comment, rolling my eyes. She never talks at school, and I've never seen her _outside _of school, as far as I can remember. Then again, it's not like I've been paying much attention to Spencer Carlin over the years. Sure, I have vague fleeting memories of her being in my sixth grade science class and stuff like that, and she's been around for as long as I can remember, but I've never really cared to get to know her.

"Well, I am, actually. I do volunteer work after school most days, and every Saturday."

I wrinkle my nose, shooting her a sympathetic look. "Oh, sorry. That must suck. Your parents make you do it?"

She crosses her arms and glares at me. "No, I do it because I want to."

"…Oh. That's, um…cool, I guess." Well, I've basically just made the rest of this entire ride uncomfortable and awkward, and so neither of us says anything until we get back to my house. And even then, I can tell I've aggravated Spencer, which is kind of aggravating _me_. "So…this is home," I finally say, looking over at her when we're parked in the driveway. She nods, looking out her window at my family's mansion without much enthusiasm, and I suddenly have the urge to impress her. "It's pretty big, huh?"

She glances over at me, biting her lip, then sighs as she pushes her door open and slips out of the car. "You're different than I thought you'd be."

I furrow my eyebrows, scrambling out of my car and falling into step beside her as we head towards the front door. "What? How so?"

She shrugs calmly, sliding both of her hands into her back pockets as we walk. "I don't know. You're more…" She sighs again, then questions, "You don't really _do _anything, do you?"

"What do you mean; I do stuff all the time," I counter sharply. "I'm taking you to a party tonight, remember?"

"Not like that. Stuff that…I don't know, has a purpose."

I snicker. "Spencer, going to a party _does_ have a purpose." Getting drunk and having fun _being _that purpose.

"In your opinion."

"Well, your opinion's not any more important than mine, you know."

"You're right. It's not," she agrees, and by now we're inside, and she's watching me expectantly while I stare back at her. "So where's your room?"

I haven't decided whether or not I like this different, bolder Spencer better than the usual shy one. But I have a feeling that both of them are full of surprises.

"You look good," I'm telling her twenty minutes later, when I've finally found her an outfit that suits her, and honestly, "good" is an understatement. In _my _clothes, which are a little more eye-catching and revealing than Spencer's usual apparel, she almost looks…_hot_.

Heck, _I'd _do her, if she wasn't basically a charity case I'm only spending time with to try and cure myself of my everlasting boredom.

"Thanks." She's blushing again, and I have to suppress a smirk as she adds, "So…should we go now?"

"I still have to do your make-up," I respond, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards my bathroom. "Then we can go." I sit her down in front of the mirror in my bathroom and immediately stoop to gather supplies from the cabinets underneath the counter. "Not that…you know, what you're already wearing doesn't look good or anything, but you need something to go better with your outfit. Let's do mascara first."

She watches me warily while I lean in close to use the small brush on her eyelashes, and she flinches away instinctively, and then looks embarrassed when I scowl at her.

"Stay still."

"Sorry."

I lean in again, and she blinks rapidly when the brush gets close to her eye.

Okay, this explains why I never see Spencer wearing mascara.

"_And _keep your eyes open."

She blushes, but doesn't reply, and then flinches again on my third try.

"Hold _still_!"

"I can't help it!"

I glare at her again, then reach forward and rest my hand on her cheek to steady her, leaning in again with the brush in my other hand. Her mouth opens slightly, and I can see the blue shade of her left eye clearly darken just a little bit as I'm applying the mascara to its top eyelash. A quick glance later and I've confirmed that the right one's darkened, too. I can feel her cheek hot under my hand, and her eyes are practically glued to my lips.

This is kind of fun.

"So you're gay?" I question innocently, breaking the silence, and she clears her throat hastily, tearing her eyes away from my lips. Her eyes shoot up to meet mine.

"Huh?"

"You and that book of yours, in the library," I tease, finishing with her left eye and moving to the right. "You're gay?"

Her cheeks are starting to heat up again. "Oh, um…does it really matter?"

"It does if you want to have fun tonight," I tell her. "I know pretty much everyone in our school. I can find you someone to fool around with; I just need to know if you want a guy or a girl."

"Uh…" Her gaze slides to her lap or her feet; I can't tell. "I thought _we_ were going to hang out there."

"We are. But if I find someone I'm interested in, I won't just want to ditch you, so I could help you find someone, too."

"I'm not really into one-night stands," she admits with a shrug.

"What if you were?" I retort immediately, smirking and meeting her eyes. It takes me a second to realize I'm admiring how blue they are, and I quickly shift my attention back to my hand.

She's quiet for a moment, and then shyly mumbles, "A girl."

I give her what I hope is a friendly smile. "It's okay. Me too."

She looks surprised. "I thought you were bi."

"Well, I'm not really into labels," I reply with a shrug. "Yeah, I like boys and girls, but that doesn't mean I can't prefer one over the other, right? I like girls a lot better. Don't tell anyone yet, though. It's semi-secret."

"If you prefer girls, then why are you sleeping with Aiden?" she asks, and I stiffen, pulling away from her.

"What? How did you know that?"

"Uh…" She bites her lip. "I don't know, it's just kind of obvious. He stares at you a lot."

"_You _stare at me and _we're_ not sleeping together," I point out, crossing my arms.

"Yeah, well…" she trails off weakly, shrugging again. "I guess I just kind of picked up on it."

"What else have you picked up on?" I ask with interest. She noticed I like girls, and now she's noticed that Aiden and I sleep together. Does Spencer somehow know every detail of my life? Because that's kind of creepy.

She smiles. "You sleep in class every day."

I roll my eyes at her and go back to doing her make-up. "_Everyone _knows that."


	4. Party Up

**A/N: Soooo...when I said no Ashden kisses, I hope most of you assumed that I meant on the lips, because there are kisses in this chapter (and possibly in following chapters, can't remember), but none of them are on the lips. By the way, anyone else amused by the fact that I'm giving out Ashden warnings before chapters?**

**Spencer's boldness has only just begun! And yes, seeing more of what Ashley's really like definitely turned Spencer off for a moment there, but as we all know, it can't last too long, and neither can Ashley treating Spencer like a charity case. **

**Also, I think it'd be interesting to know what you guys' opinions are on happy endings vs nonhappy endings. This just happens to be on my mind due to the fact that this story could've gone either way at one point while I was writing it, and I eventually made a decision and now it's finished and definitely final. Personally, I'd have to say that when I'm reading a story, I generally prefer the happy endings, but when the occassion calls for it sometimes a sad one would fit better and in those cases it's cool with me (even though I might end up bawling my eyes out, haha). What do you guys think?**

**Anyway, here's chapter four!**

* * *

When we get to the party, it's already in full swing. The inside of Aiden's house smells like beer and sweat, and Spencer's nose wrinkles the second we're inside, making it obvious that she's not used to this. "C'mon!" I shout over the music, pulling her through a crowd of people to the other side of the living room, where a large cooler is being manned by one of Aiden's basketball friends, Jack or Jason or something like that. "Two beers," I tell him, holding up the appropriate number of fingers in case he can't hear me. He hands me both of them, free of charge just because he knows me, and I offer one to Spencer, who looks hesitant but takes it anyway. "Try it!" I command once we're standing in a corner of the room, watching everyone dance. I'm tempted to join, but I'm not coldhearted enough that I'd leave Spencer alone by herself when she's obviously new to this.

She bites her lip and stares down at the bottle warily for a moment, and I nudge her encouragingly, taking a swig of my own for good measure. She watches me swallow, raises the bottle to her lips and takes a small sip…then immediately spits it out, just as Madison's walked up to talk to me. The result is a thoroughly pissed off Madison, an embarrassed Spencer, and a me that is trying very hard not to laugh.

"What the hell was that?!" Madison's giving me a look that's silently asking "Why are you here with her?" I choose to ignore it.

"S-sorry," Spencer stutters out, looking to me for help, and I manage to contort my expression into one of sympathy just in time.

"She's never drank before, Maddy," I offer in explanation. "I have some extra tops in my car. It's unlocked; you can just borrow one if you want."

"Fine," Madison spits out, shooting one last glare in Spencer's direction, before storming off in the direction of the front door.

"Alright, c'mon," I say quickly, grabbing Spencer's hand and pulling her towards the stairs, in the opposite direction of where Madison just went.

"Where are we going?" she asks loudly, looking briefly over her shoulder.

"Away from Madison," I laugh out. "I'm pretty sure there's nothing for her to wear in my car; I just said that so she'd leave without kicking your ass."

"Thanks?"

"Yeah, well…" I shrug, pushing a door I happen to know leads to Aiden's parents' bedroom. They must be out of town. "…No problem."

I close the door behind us once we're inside the room, shutting out the noise coming from downstairs so that we don't have to keep shouting at each other.

"I thought Madison was your best friend," Spencer points out, looking around the room awkwardly, like she isn't sure if we should be in here. I roll my eyes in response to her statement and down the rest of my bottle, then set it on the dresser next to me.

"I don't know. She's kind of a bitch. She's okay for fashion advice, I guess. Not that I need any."

"Right," Spencer says slowly, eyeing the bottle I just emptied and then glancing down at her own. She holds it out towards me all of a sudden. "Do you want this?"

"I have to drive you home," I remind her. "Besides, I got it for _you_. You should drink it."

"I don't drink."

I grin at her. "Yeah, I kind of figured when you spit it out all over Madison a minute ago. Seriously, though, drink it. You'll get used to the taste."

She raises an eyebrow. "How do I know you aren't just trying to get me drunk?"

"Maybe I am," I reply, smirking.

"Yeah, you are," she agrees with a sigh, staring down at the bottle again. "Alright. This is stupid, but I'll try it." With that, she pinches her nose and drinks the whole thing even faster than I downed my own. My eyes are wide by the time she's done.

"Wow. _That _was impressive."

She lets go of her nose and blinks a few times, wincing simultaneously. "That tasted awful."

"I know, but like I said: you'll get used to it," I promise her, turning towards the door. "Now you wait here while I go get a couple more bottles. I'll be back in a minute."

I can see her opening her mouth, probably to argue, but I duck out of the room and close the door behind myself before she can get a word in, then proceed downstairs to go find what's-his-name and grab some more beer.

I'm not even to the stairs yet when a hand grabs my wrist and yanks me backward, and for a second I think it's Madison, back to yell at me for lying to her, but then I'm being pushed backwards into the wall and lips are pressing against my neck insistently. I furrow my eyebrows, then shove Aiden away, glaring at him while he stumbles. Something tells me he's had a little to drink. "What the hell are you doing? Madison's gonna see you, you idiot."

"Don't care," he mutters hastily, pressing back into me again and trying to kiss me. I turn my head so his lips meet my cheek, then push him away again.

"Okay, but you're also buzzed right now. Go away Aiden; Spencer's here with me and I have to take care of her tonight."

He sighs, slumping against the wall. "Spencer? What the hell are you even doing with her, anyway? She's a loser, Ash."

"So? She's fun to mess with," I retort. "Anyway, I promised her I'd only be gone a minute, so I can't be off having sex with you…even though that probably wouldn't take more than a minute, either."

"Shut up," he snaps, cheeks flushing red as he steps towards me again. "Fine, I'll leave you alone. But you're coming over to my house tomorrow, alright? I haven't seen you in a week."

"You see me every day, Aiden," I say, rolling my eyes.

"That's not what I meant," he replies lowly, probably thinking he's being sexy or something. I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes again.

"Yeah, whatever. If I'm not busy, I'll see you tomorrow," I tell him noncommittally, heading for the stairs again. Luckily, he doesn't follow, and I'm not interrupted again, so less than a minute later I've gotten the beers and I'm back to the bedroom I left Spencer waiting in.

She's looking at the pictures on the nightstand when I enter, and I scoff when I realize it's basically just a collage of Aiden's parents smiling together. There are maybe a couple of pictures with Aiden in them, too, but I happen to know that his parents aren't really around too much and they basically let Aiden do anything he wants. This party is proof.

"Why are you looking at old people?" I speak right into her ear, and she jumps, obviously not having heard me come in. Her cheeks are pink by the time I get a good look at her.

"They're not _old_."

"They're forty-something. That's old," I argue, handing her one of my newly acquired bottles. She accepts it reluctantly. "I'd stay a teenager forever if I could. Especially since I'd always look this hot."

She rolls her eyes and pinches her nose again, replying only after she's taken a couple of gulps and then lowered the bottle. "I don't know. I think I'd rather be grown up."

I scoff. "You're crazy."

"Well, I've always wondered what it'd be like, being over eighteen. There's nobody around to tell you what to do."

"Hmm." I raise an eyebrow at her approvingly. "Good point. But it's not like anyone's around to tell me what to do, anyway."

She's silent for a while, chewing on her lip. "…My parents are pretty strict, I guess. I can't really blame them, though."

"Why not?"

She shrugs. "They're overprotective, but I know it's just because they care about me. Don't want anything bad to happen to me, you know?"

"Oh," I reply. "Yeah, I guess so. Our maid makes me sandwiches sometimes."

She takes one look at my serious expression, and starts laughing. "_What_?" she asks incredulously, and I wince inwardly when I realize that probably sounded stupid.

"Well, I don't have the whole 'loving family' thing going on so much, but at least it's something. And my dad takes me out every weekend to do something special."

"Oh," she says, her grin fading into a comfortable smile. "That's good. What are you doing this weekend?"

"Nothing; he's busy," I admit. "But most weekends, he's here. His favorite place is this bridge near the ocean; we go there and listen to the waves together sometimes. It's nice." I don't know why I'm telling her all this. I think maybe that one bottle had a larger effect on me than I originally thought.

"It sounds nice."

"Yeah. It's _my_ favorite place to go, too. Just…when I need to think or something."

"I wish I had a place like that," she replies sadly, looking down at the ground before taking another swig from her bottle. I notice she's starting to slur her words a little, and I don't know whether I'm happy about that or not. On the one hand, I've been trying to get her to drink and I kind of want to know what a shy and quiet girl like Spencer Carlin is like when she's drunk. But on the other hand, I'm actually enjoying talking to her, and I can't remember the last time I actually _liked _having a conversation with someone. "But I don't get to leave the house unless it's to go do volunteer work or go to school. Otherwise, I have to have one of my brothers with me all the time."

"Why?" I question, offering her a third bottle now that she's finished the first two. Well, actually, she takes it from me without asking, which I guess kind of makes the decision for me: I'm about to see Spencer drunk. If I wasn't going to see her at school every day for the rest of this year, I might consider taking advantage. But one thing I don't need is another Aiden; one friend with benefits is already annoying enough.

She shrugs halfheartedly. "Like I said; they're protective."

"But _why_?" I repeat. "There must be a reason."

She laughs bitterly, taking yet another swig from her new bottle. I kind of wince, knowing she's not going to feel too good in the morning. "Not one I'd tell _you_."

I raise an eyebrow, scoffing loudly. "Whatever. You're drunk."


	5. Voicemail

**A/N: mars - You made some cool points, what definitely stood out to me was when you talked about reading fanfiction because it gives you what you want to see...and I totally agree. Sad endings leave me feeling depressed and then I have to go read a happy one-shot or something to make myself feel better, hehe. **

**Well a lot of you have expressed _slight _dissatisfaction with bitchy/annoying/douchebaggy/frank...-and I think that's it- Ashley, so I am pleased to announce that at the end of this chapter we will get a sneak peek of Sensitive!Ashley for a moment. Hopefully that'll appease you guys until she has another nonbitchy moment :D**

**Warning: That one Ashden scene I mentioned, with the sex-related stuff and all that. It's in this chapter :( But just think, after this you're done! :)**

* * *

Half-unconscious Spencer is heavy, especially when you're trying to get her out of a house full of crazy, drunken teenagers and you're slightly buzzed yourself.

But completely unconscious Spencer is even heavier.

We're halfway from my car to her front door, and I've got one arm under each of hers, practically dragging her to the door because I'm not strong enough to lift her, even as skinny as she is.

When we get there, I kneel down beside her and rest her back against the front door, debating what the hell I'm going to do now. I certainly can't go into her house and try to go from there, because I spotted a room on the second floor with a window covered by pink curtains, and I'm positive that must be Spencer's room, and there's no way I'd be able to get her up the stairs once inside. Plus, I definitely don't want to get caught inside her house in the middle of the night by her "protective" parents. They'd probably kill me.

That really only leaves me with a couple of options that involve Spencer being relatively safe without me getting into any kind of trouble.

"Fuck, can't you just wake up already?" I growl at her, patting her cheek lightly and cringing when I see a small trail of drool trickle out of the corner of her mouth. Ew. Not cute. "Spencer!" No response. "SPENCER!"

My ears twitch when I hear footsteps from inside her house, and I scramble to my feet hastily, hesitating for a moment before ringing the doorbell and then dashing back to my car, leaving Spencer sprawled out on her doorstep for her family to find.

Come Saturday morning, I find myself waking up with a practically pleasant throbbing in my head, compared to how bad my usual hangovers are, and I'm actually smiling as I troop downstairs and order Maria to make me a sandwich.

My smile disappears, then, for two reasons.

One, I remember the end of last night and where I had to leave Spencer.

Two, Maria knows zero English.

Damn my mother. Not only for hiring Maria, but for giving me my weak arm genes.

"Um…sandwich," I repeat, extremely slowly this time. Maria just blinks at me. I wrack my brain, trying to remember the week we spent memorizing food in Spanish class. "Bocadillo!" I'm a genius.

"Ah…" Maria replies, nodding and heading for the bread lying in a basket on the counter.

"Butter-o de peanut-o!" I call after her with crossed arms. "And jelly!" I'm not sure whether she hears me or not, but when I finally get my sandwich back, it's exactly as I requested. I decide to give Maria a break, and head back up to my room to grab my cell phone and call Spencer. It's nearly noon; surely she's up by now.

It goes to voicemail. And my policy is that if people don't bother answering their phones to talk to me, then they don't get a chance to hear what I have to say. So I don't leave a message.

Without my dad to hang out with this weekend, and my mom off on vacation somewhere in northern Mexico, I really have zero options as far as family plans today, but it's not like that isn't a usual thing. I've spent years occupying myself, so I'm sure I can find something to do today. Still, it certainly doesn't help with the whole "excitement factor". I could really use another SOAD concert right about now.

Instead, I settle for Aiden's house.

Unlike Spencer, he answers on the first ring. _"Ash?"_

"Yeah, I'm coming over, alright?"

_"Awesome, I just finished cleaning up from last night so-"_

I hang up with a roll of my eyes, sighing to myself. Boys can be so annoying sometimes. The good thing about hooking up with girls at clubs is that they know exactly what you want, and they don't do that annoying thing where they try to talk your ear off first. I can't stand any of the guys at my school; you'd think they just want to get in my pants, but due to my reputation and popularity they feel the need to try and get me to go on a date with them beforehand or something. That's part of the reason I've given up on sleeping with any of them, minus Aiden. They're not worth the trouble, especially when the sex isn't even that good. I think the only worse thing would be trying to actually date a _girl_. Jesus, if I think _guys _do too much talking, I can't even imagine what having a girlfriend would be like. Hell, probably.

Although Spencer's kind of nice to talk to. Too bad she doesn't answer her phone, and innocent too-skinny probably-virgins who can't hold their alcohol aren't exactly my type.

Then again, neither are clingy jocks who are dating my best friend and somehow always feel the need to talk after sex, but whatever. I can't seem to break this thing off with Aiden. He's familiar, I guess. I'm comfortable with him. We've been friends since freshman year and we even dated for a couple of months before I decided I didn't want to be tied down to anyone.

Still, he's annoying.

"Wow."

"Yup," I say flatly, my eyes following the lines of his bedroom ceiling. Every time I look, there's always this same pattern near the far right-hand corner. It almost looks like a dolphin.

"That was amazing."

"Yeah." I try to put some enthusiasm into it, and I've had enough practice that it sounds convincing to Aiden, especially in his half-conscious state. If I had to rank Aiden, I'd say he's better than other guys, but worse than any girl I've slept with. So he's okay to go to if I'm too lazy to go clubbing. Or if it's the middle of the day, like now.

I push down the blankets covering me and sling my legs over the side of Aiden's bed, before pushing myself up to my feet. There's a rustling sound from behind me, and when I turn, Aiden's sitting up, staring at me. "You're leaving already?"

I nod, turning away to search for my clothes. "We got a new maid this week. Mom doesn't like to leave the new ones alone at the house for too long at first, and since neither of my parents are home this weekend, I've got to be the one there to watch her."

"Oh." He pauses, and I roll my eyes at his disappointed tone. Clingy is even more annoying than talkative.

"I'll see you Monday," I tell him, finishing buttoning up my pants and then pulling my shirt on over my already-clasped bra.

"You're busy tomorrow?" he questions, confused.

"No," I reply pointedly, shooting him a scowl. "But Madison's been gushing to me about a date you two apparently have." I guess she forgave me for lying to her about the shirt in my car. Or there was one in there after all.

"You could still come over afterwards."

"Yeah, but I'm already a big enough bitch for sleeping with my best friend's boyfriend in the first place," I retort. "I think I'll hold off on having sex with you right after you've just finished up with her."

He sighs. "Can't I just break up with her? She treats me like shit, anyway."

"Uh, not if you want _this_," I point between he and I, "to continue. Break her heart and _I'll _be the one that has to take care of her, and believe me, you put me through the shit that is a completely devastated Madison and I'll never sleep with you again."

"I don't even _like _her," he complains. "You know that."

"Then you shouldn't have started dating her in the first place." I leave his bedroom without another word. He's seriously pathetic. Last year, he knew Madison had a thing for him, and I'd just broken it off with him and was ready to stop talking to him altogether. He became Madison's boyfriend because it was the only way to make sure he stayed close to me. I guess he thinks I'm not smart enough to have it figured out by now. On the contrary, I'm very smart. I'm just too lazy to act it.

But I guess Aiden can't be _that _big of an idiot, either, because he's got me sleeping with him, after all. Mission accomplished.

I pull out my cell phone again once I'm in my car, checking for texts or missed calls from a certain blonde lesbian. Nothing. Still.

I call my dad instead.

_"Hey, this is Raife Davies; I'm probably too busy jamming out with my band to come to the phone right now. Leave a message and I'll call back when I'm done rockin'!"_

God, he's such a dork sometimes.

I take a deep breath as I hear the beep on the other end.

"Um…hey, Dad. It's Ashley." Yeah, I'm breaking my own rule. But Dad's always been an exception. He's the one person in my life that I can honestly say I love. "I just called to see how you were doing. It sucks that you couldn't come home this weekend; I'm really bored without you. Maybe I'll go to our bridge or something. The waves are supposed to be pretty crazy today, but it's too cold out to ride, so I'll probably just watch other people wipe out and freeze their asses off or something." I give a short laugh, pausing for a moment afterward. "Hope you're having fun." I pause again. "…I miss you." Then I hang up.


	6. Apology Accepted?

**A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates, guys; my teachers have all simultaneously decided that right after Spring Break was a good time to give out TONS of homework and I've been too busy to prep chapters for posting and all that. I'll post two chapters today to make up for it, though. **

* * *

Spencer doesn't return either of my calls, and on Monday, I've hardly reached my locker when a hand grabs my shoulder from behind and turns me around.

Blue eyes stare into mine. Except they're not Spencer's, and they're angry.

"Just who do you think you are?" Glen growls at me. My eyes slide from his to over his shoulder, where Clay Carlin is standing with his arms crossed. He doesn't look too happy, either.

"I'm Ashley Davies." I hold out one hand, pretending to be unaffected by their glares. "Who are you?"

"I think you know who _we _are," Glen retorts, tightening his grip on my shoulder. "And you're coming with us."

I smack his arm away before he can move me. "Don't tell me what to do, asshole."

Glen looks around briefly, realizing that I can make a scene if I really want, especially with the halls as crowded as they are. "Look," he finally says, his voice lowered. "Stay away from my sister."

I let out a dry laugh. "Well, I was planning on it, actually, after she didn't answer her phone, but now that you've said that, I think I'll hang out with her a little bit more."

He pushes me, hard, and my back hits the locker with enough force that I have to try hard not to wince. That's going to bruise.

"Asshole," I repeat, with more venom this time.

"My mom found Spencer drunk on our doorstep at two in the morning on Saturday," Glen tells me in that same hushed tone. "And I don't know how she got that way, but the one thing I _do _know is that Spencer said you were the one that left her by our front door. So stay the hell away from her from now on and we won't have any problems."

So Spencer ratted me out. I'll have to have a talk with her.

I raise an eyebrow. "Wow, Spencer was right. Her family _is _protective of her." At that, Glen stiffens, and Clay looks a little shifty behind him. I smirk at them. "What, did I hit a nerve?" I cross my arms. "Why are you guys so protective, anyway?" My smirk widens. "Is it because she's gay?"

"Shut up!" Glen shouts, and for a second I think he's going to hit me, but then a hand is on _his _shoulder and for once I'm glad I have a muscular jock for a friend.

"What's your problem, man?" Aiden questions when he and Glen are facing each other, and Glen rips his arm from Aiden's grip, glaring over at me again.

"I better not see you talking to her again," he warns, before turning and storming down the hallway. Clay just shakes his head at me and then leaves.

"What was that about?"

I shrug. "I don't know. Spencer must have one crazy family."

I don't have first period with Spencer herself, so I have to wait until second period Spanish to actually see her.

"Hey," I say a bit stiffly when I slide into my seat, diagonal from hers. Sure, I'm a little angry at her, but I do feel bad for ditching her at her door. What was I supposed to do, though?

She keeps her back to me and doesn't say anything, and my eyebrows furrow.

"What, are you giving me the silent treatment now?"

She doesn't even move.

"Spencerrrrrrrr…" I sing-song quietly, leaning over and tapping her shoulder. At that, she tenses, then abruptly raises her hand. Our teacher looks surprised.

"Yes, Spencer?" he asks.

"Can I go to the bathroom?"

Oh, so _that's_ how she's going to be.

"Sure."

She takes her stuff with her and doesn't come back, and if anyone else notices, they don't say anything.

She doesn't show up to lunch, either, or to Biology, or Trig, or US History, and while Madison and Aiden definitely don't seem to miss her, I'm aggravated. She thinks she can just blow me off like this? I'm _Ashley Davies_.

Basically ignoring anything Glen said to me this morning, I head straight to Spencer's house after school, only stopping to drop Madison and Aiden off at their respective houses. By the time I get to Spencer's, Glen's car is in the driveway, which means she must be home. I park across the street and walk right through their front yard and up to the door, crossing my arms once I've rang the doorbell.

A man that's probably in his forties answers the door. He must be Spencer's dad. "Is Spencer here?"

He looks confused. "You're here to see Spencer?"

"Yeah." I pause. "Is she home?" I repeat.

He glances over his shoulder briefly, then turns back to me. "May I ask who's looking for her?"

I have a feeling he already knows who I am. "I'm Ashley."

His lips press together firmly, and I can already tell what he's going to say before he opens his mouth. "I don't-"

"Look," I interrupt, holding up one of my hands to silence him. "I don't know what you heard, but Friday night was a misunderstanding. I need to talk to Spencer."

He debates for a second, and his eyes finally settle onto mine. Suddenly, he looks incredibly tired. "Listen, Ashley, Spencer's…she hasn't had a friend in a while. Be careful with her." He finishes his warning and then leaves to go get Spencer, and I just stand here for a moment, a little confused as I try to recall everything I know about Spencer Carlin.

I know she wasn't here in second grade. And I know she was in my homeroom in fifth grade, so she must've moved here either during third or fourth. I had a class with her in sixth grade, and in seventh…I definitely don't remember seeing her at all. Or during eighth. She must've moved middle schools. Then she showed up at King for our freshman year, and ever since then she's just been…_there_. But with friends?

No, definitely not. Not that I can remember.

Sure, Spencer's not the coolest person ever, but I don't understand why nobody wants to hang out with her. Then again, anyone who got close was probably scared off by her creepy brothers. Glen's verbal attack on me this morning definitely explains a lot.

"What are you doing here?"

She's in different clothes than she wore today at school. More casual.

I tilt my head to the side, eyeing her carefully. "You ignored me today. You even skipped lunch and three classes."

She just stares at me. "You got me drunk and left me on my doorstep for my family to find me."

Touché. "I rang the doorbell," I reply defensively. "And I _tried _to call and check on you, but you didn't answer."

"Because I was a little busy being questioned by my family all weekend!" she retorts. "Speaking of which, you're lucky my mom's not home from work yet or she'd kill you."

"Yeah, well…" I gesture towards inside her house. "Your dad seems nice."

"He is." Her gaze hardens. "I think it'd be better if you just stay away from me from now on." She moves to close the door, but I press my hand to it quickly, keeping it open.

"Geez, you sound like your brother."

She stares at me, confused, then opens the door a couple of inches. "What?"

"This morning. He ambushed me in the hall and told me to stop talking to you." I bite my lip. "By the way, are you out to your family already?" Because if not, she is _now_.

Her eyebrows furrow suspiciously. "None of your business."

I shrug. "Alright, whatever. If you want to turn down a friend, then I guess I can't stop you."

I step away from the door, watching her expectantly, and she immediately slams it shut in my face. I blink a few times.

Well, that definitely wasn't what I was expecting. This was the part where she was supposed to admit how desperate she is for my friendship and take me back with open arms.

A moment later, the door swings back open, and Spencer steps outside without looking at me. This time, there are shoes on her feet, a spare pair in her hands, and her hair is pulled up into a ponytail, which is sticking out of the back of an old Cincinnati Reds hat on her head. She takes one look at my four-inch heels and offers me the shoes in her hands.

"I don't wear tennis shoes," I tell her, disgusted, but she pushes them into my hands anyway.

"We're going for a walk. I want to take you somewhere."


	7. Surprise Visit

Spencer starts off down the sidewalk without waiting for me, and I have to hurry to catch up. "I go here every Monday and Wednesday, after school. If you want to be my friend, you might have to get used to coming here with me, because I don't do much else on weekdays."

"Who says I want to be your friend?" I retort defiantly.

"You did, just a minute ago," she replies easily, glancing over at me. "And I'm nice enough to forgive you, but you're going to spend this afternoon making it up to me anyway."

I let out a snort. "Oh really?"

"Really," she confirms with a nod.

I don't really know what to say to that. "…So how far are we walking?"

"Just a couple of blocks."

We walk in silence for a few minutes. Spencer's hands are in her pockets and she's kicking every pebble we come across with surprising accuracy. I probably wouldn't be able to do it.

"So…_are _you naturally this forgiving all the time?" I finally question. Truthfully, I'm just trying to figure out if I'm still special. I don't blame Spencer if she's already gotten over her crush on me, but I think I kind of like being around someone who likes me in that cute "blushing all the time" way. All Aiden ever does is ask when I can sleep with him again. I can't exactly see Spencer doing that. She's being a lot bolder now, though.

She shrugs, then to my surprise, smiles over at me. "Being mad at someone's kind of a waste of time, when you think about it. It doesn't accomplish anything."

"Don't get mad, get even?" I recite. She chuckles.

"Not exactly what I meant, but okay."

I raise an eyebrow at her. "You're kind of weird."

She just laughs again and tilts her face up towards the sky, closing her eyes like she's soaking in the warmth. "Because I'm a teenage girl who doesn't like fighting?"

"I don't know. You just…are," I say, unable to figure out how to put what I'm thinking into words. "Like, you're different."

"Different isn't weird," she sighs out, her face still tilted upwards. "It's just different." She cracks one eye open and looks over at me with it. "Maybe I think you're weird."

"How am I weird?"

"Well," she sighs out, finally looking away from the sky and back down to the ground. Eventually, her eyes focus somewhere around my cheek and she continues, "You sleep in class every single day, you randomly started talking to me for no particular reason, you call me multiple times and don't even leave a voicemail, and you're sleeping with a guy you don't even like even though he's dating your best friend," she summarizes, raising an eyebrow. "Pretty weird, if you ask me."

"Whatever," I retort, rolling my eyes. "You don't know anything about Aiden and me."

"So tell me," she says, plain and simple. I furrow my eyebrows and stare at her for a moment, nearly forgetting to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

"Alright," I finally say, slowly. Mentally, I'm back in my freshman year, picturing when I first met Aiden. "We had a few classes together my first year at King High. Madison was a cheerleader, just like now, and he was on the basketball team, so I met him through her, actually. She had this huge crush on him from the very beginning. I thought he was kind of cute, I guess. He had a thing for me, but since I didn't really like him all that much anyway and Madison _did _like him, I never bothered dating him, and we all just stayed friends."

"Sophomore year, last year, Madison and I had a fight. It was about something stupid; I don't remember. And I was starting to notice girls more and more, and it scared me. So I started dating Aiden because of that, and because I wanted to piss Madison off. So a couple weeks later, she came crawling back, and after that, Aiden and I didn't last much longer. He was in love with me, and I was just using him. He still is in love with me, actually, I think." I pause, swallowing. "And I _know _Madison's in love with him. It's just this huge mess. After I dumped him, I decided I was done with the drama and the whole love triangle thing, and I didn't want to hang out with him anymore. So he chose then to get with Madison. He knew that there was no way I could avoid him if he was dating my best friend. And I guess after that we kind of fell into sleeping together behind her back."

"Why?" Spencer asks. "If you don't like him…" She trails off, waiting for a response.

"I haven't really figured that out yet," I admit. "We're just really close, I guess. He's one of my best friends and when I'm with him, I'm…I don't know. A normal person? I'm just Ashley. It's nice being with someone that loves you for who you are, and even though Aiden's kind of an idiot and I'm not attracted to him at all, he does that for me. He loves me." I lower my eyes to the ground. "He's one of the few people on this planet that does."

"Huh," is all Spencer says, in a kind of thoughtful tone, and when I look over at her, her eyes are on the ground and her eyebrows are all scrunched up. Finally, she says, "I guess that's what I want, too. Someone to love me."

"I'm pretty sure your family loves you, Spencer," I tell her, trying to lighten the mood. "Probably more than they should, even."

It works; she laughs. "Not like that. You know…_love _love. Someone who'll…I don't know, hug me and kiss me and smile every time I enter a room." She shrugs. "But I'm not stupid; it won't happen." She looks over at me and smiles, to my surprise, and I raise my eyebrows curiously. "But I'm thankful for what I _do _have: parents that love me, brothers that do everything they can to keep me safe, and now, a friend. Right?"

Her grin is contagious, and I can't help giving one of my own back, as silly as this whole situation is. Hell, I'm wearing tennis shoes with no socks. "Right."

The place Spencer takes me to is a small orphanage. It's a pretty nice place, not like the run-down orphanages I always see in movies or on television. She tells me she's been volunteering here since she was fourteen. It definitely shows. The second Spencer enters the room full of children, they all light up and scramble to their feet. Choruses of her name ring out and they all surround her, begging to be held or played with or told a story, and I just stand here a few feet away from the action, smiling like a nervous idiot while Spencer introduces me to a man that evidently works at the orphanage.

"Robert, this is Ashley; she goes to my school. She came to help me keep everyone company today."

"Great to meet you, Ashley," Robert says, leaning forward to shake my hand. When he pulls away, his attention returns to Spencer. "I'll leave you guys to it, then?"

"Sure," Spencer replies with a nod, and the second he's gone, she's kneeling down to pick up a giggling boy and swings him around in her arms, only setting him down when they're both too dizzy to keep spinning. I look around, counting about ten children in all. None of them look older than six or seven years old, and the youngest ones are two or three.

"_This _is the volunteer work you do?" I question, and Spencer shoots me a smile, nodding.

"Yup. You just gonna stand there, or are you going to have some fun?"

I blink at her, surprised, and before I can open my mouth to reply another small boy pokes Spencer's leg, attracting her attention. "Spencer, horsey!"

"Oh, alright," she relents with a laugh, dropping down to her hands and knees and letting him climb onto her back. She barely gets two feet before a mob of giggling toddlers charges her and piles on top, and all I can do is watch in surprise while she pretends to let them roll her over and then fake-struggles to get up while they sit all over her legs and torso. One even pins her right arm.

"Spencer didn't come last week," one of the older ones tell her, pouting, and Spencer mimics the pout, prodding the little girl in the stomach lightly with her free arm. The action earns her a giggle.

"Spencer didn't feel good," she explains. "I won't miss another day, though."

"Promise?" The girl holds out her pinky finger.

Spencer grins at her. "Promise."

As I watch Spencer link their fingers together, I notice every kid in the room watches with me, almost like they're entranced and nothing else in the world matters as long as they get to see Spencer again.

And to my own surprise, I'm thinking that this girl I've somehow managed to stumble across by accident might just end up being the most beautiful person I've ever met.


	8. A Talk with Kat

"So what'd you think?"

She's asking me this on the walk back to her house, and I haven't really said anything since we left the orphanage, still a little in shock that someone could be so…_selfless_. I thought people like Spencer Carlin only existed in movies.

It takes a few seconds for Spencer's nervous tone to register. So she's taken my silence as a bad thing.

"I don't know what to think," I say honestly. She bites her lip. "That was…just, wow. You do that _every _Monday and Wednesday?"

She grins, looking relieved. "Every Monday and Wednesday that I can. Sometimes something comes up, but…" She trails off, shrugging. "It makes me feel good. And there's really no downside to doing it, other than sometimes a kid gets adopted and I have to say goodbye. But at the same time, it's nice to know they'll get to be part of a family."

I raise an eyebrow at her. "Are you a real person, Spencer?"

"Huh?"

"You, like…don't have a fault," I point out. "You're probably some good-deed-doing robot and pretty soon you're going to develop some kind of intelligence, turn evil, and try to take over the world."

"Um…thanks?"

"Yeah, no problem." We're almost to her house, and I'm kind of realizing that I don't want today to end. "So…what should we do next?"

She quirks an eyebrow, smirking. "Ashley Davies, did you really just suggest hanging out with me voluntary for a reason _other _than to get drunk?"

"Shut up," I mumble, turning away while an unfamiliar burning feeling makes its way to my cheeks. I think I'm blushing.

Spencer Carlin just made me blush.

"I, uh…well, actually, Maria shouldn't be left alone for too long, so…" I trail off, bending down to untie Spencer's borrowed shoes and hand them back to her. She accepts them with a questioning look on her face.

"Maria?"

"The maid. The new ones steal stuff sometimes." I really need to think up new excuses. "I'll see you at school though, tomorrow."

"Okay," Spencer replies uncertainly, but I guess she shrugs it off because a second later she adds, "I help out at the nursing home down the street on Tuesdays and Thursdays. You're welcome to join me if you want."

"Yeah, maybe," I reply hastily, already turning away to head back to my car.

"Alright…bye," she finishes lamely from somewhere behind me. I give her a small wave before I get into my car and fumble with my keys.

This is not good. This is bad. This is borderline awful.

Ashley Davies doesn't blush. _I _don't blush. Not for Aiden, not for slutty club girls, and certainly not for this…this blonde, blue-eyed do-gooder who somehow went from charity case to actual friend in just a day. I'm indestructible. My _walls _have walls. And nobody's allowed past them, except for maybe my dad, and even _he _hurts me a lot more than I'd like to admit.

I definitely need a drink.

Gray is where I go most often. It's not the biggest club in LA, but it's the closest one to my house, and Kat serves me alcohol because she's known me for two years now and I give her big tips. Often, she'll give me advice, which, although I definitely don't show it, I consider priceless. After all, it's not like any other adults are ever around to give me tips on life. Dad's not exactly an expert on anything besides partying, and Mom…well, I prefer to call her Christine, and I think that basically sums up the extent of our relationship.

"So she volunteers at an orphanage? Twice a week?"

"Twice a week," I confirm with a nod, chugging my Jack and coke like I don't have school tomorrow. I probably just won't go if I don't feel up to it in the morning. "And she spends another two days helping out a nursing home, apparently."

"Where'd you find this girl, exactly? A nunnery?"

"School," I reply, setting my glass down and gesturing for another. My demand is met with almost frightening speed. "She's in most of my classes. She stares at me every day and I think she has a crush on me."

"Well…what do _you _think of _her_?"

"What, me and Spencer?" I ask, taken aback by the suggestive look on Kat's face. I wave my hands hastily. "No, no…I hardly know her, really. We only started talking a week and a half ago."

"Hardly know her? That's never been a problem for you before."

"Yeah, well…she's not like that," I explain carefully.

"What's she like, then? Other than doing volunteer work. What do you know about her?"

"Uh…" My eyebrows furrow. "She doesn't drink very often. She doesn't wear a lot of makeup but she's still pretty cute, I guess. She doesn't have any friends. And she's gay, but I don't think anyone outside of her family knows. I'm not even sure her _whole family _knows."

"So she's gay and she likes you. Why are you deciding to just be friends with her?"

I wrinkle my nose. "Because…she's…she's Spencer. I'm just not going there. I don't do relationships."

"So she's a relationship girl." Kat comments knowingly.

"No," I correct quickly. "I didn't say that."

"Well, I know _I _didn't say anything about a relationship."

"Just…shut up, you're just confusing me," I sigh out, resting my head in my hands. "Spencer's…yeah, I guess she's a relationship girl. You don't have one-night stands with girls like Spencer."

"Why not?"

"Because she's practically an angel. She doesn't get drunk and she doesn't go out and party every night. She's just not that type of girl." I finish the rest of my drink, then place some money on the counter and slip off of the barstool. "Look, thanks for the chat, but I better go." There's a girl eyeing me from the dance floor, and I think she might be drunk. "I'll see you soon, probably."

Kat laughs. "Don't count on it."

I don't stick around to ask what she meant by that.


	9. Crush

I wake up to the feel of someone nuzzling their face into my neck and sliding an arm around my midsection. Lips press against my neck briefly, and a lazy sigh is followed by, "You were amazing last night."

I don't recognize the voice, so I roll away from whoever the hell is trying to snuggle with me, groaning as I press my face into my pillow.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"Get the fuck out," I mumble, pulling the covers up over my head.

"_What_?"

"Leave," I repeat harshly, hoping it isn't too muffled.

"But…I thought we had a connec-"

"No," I cut in curtly, tightening my grip on the blankets and squeezing my eyes shut while simultaneously gritting my teeth. "Just go. Please."

It's common knowledge to me by now that Aiden wants a relationship, and every guy at my school is constantly staring at me like a piece of meat, too. And now, apparently one-night stands aren't what they used to be anymore. I can't even have a decent fuck without being questioned about it the next morning.

Why does everyone want something from me all of a sudden?

Spencer comes to my mind almost immediately, and I can nearly automatically conjure up an image of her looking at me with those bright, blue, obliviously innocent nonjudgmental eyes that I almost just want to drown in…

"Fuck," I mutter to myself, stretching my arm out from beneath the blankets and feeling around on my nightstand until my fingers close around my phone. Luckily, whoever I was just in bed with has taken the hint and left, so I roll back over onto my back and sit up, running a hand through my hair before finally turning my attention to my cell phone.

One new text. From Spencer.

_"You aren't here__L. Are you okay?"_

It was sent over three hours ago, around nine. Right around the time second period starts.

That's kind of adorable.

Dammit!

I groan again and toss my phone onto my bed, refusing to let myself reply to Spencer's text and heading downstairs to find Maria. I'm kind of hungry.

Luckily, Maria seems to pick up on that relatively quickly, and already has eggs and toast prepared by the time I sit down at the kitchen table. "Comida?" she questions, pointing towards the food suggestively. I try to remember how to say "a little".

"Uh…un moco?"

She shoots me a confused look. I think that was wrong.

"Poco! Sorry," I offer shyly. She nods and goes to get me a plate, and now I'm kind of afraid of what I accidently just said. I'll have to look it up in one of those dictionaries or something at school. Although I'm pretty sure I'm not going to go today.

And now I'm thinking of Spencer's text again. Will she think I'm rude if I don't reply?

Oh, what I am I thinking; Spencer already knows I'm rude. And yet she still talks to me anyway…

No, no, how _annoying_. Yes, I can't stand those people, the ones that are…that are nice to people. Nope. They get on my nerves.

"Ugh," I groan out, attracting Maria's attention when my forehead hits the table…hard.

I have a crush, that's what it is. I have a crush on Spencer. It's small, but it's there; I can tell.

I'm a little disgusted with myself.

"Maria?" I question without moving my head, sort of hoping she's still in the room and hasn't fled by now.

"Hmm?" reaches my ears.

"Have you ever had feelings for someone you shouldn't?"

I don't get a response. Probably because she has no idea what I just said. But I'm glad she's at least trying to talk to me. She's nicer than any of the other maids I've had.

I sit up abruptly, holding up one finger to her in the universal sign for "wait a minute". Then I run up to my room and grab my laptop, taking my cell phone with me too just for the heck of it.

When I get back to the kitchen, I set my laptop down on the table and open up an online translator, setting it for English to Spanish. I type in my question again, then gesture for Maria to read. She does.

Then she laughs.

I scowl at her, looking back at the computer for a typo. There isn't one.

"Si, si!" she exclaims, seemingly fascinated with the translator.

I type in another question: "Tell me about it?"

Then I shove the laptop in her direction, making sure I've switched the settings to Spanish to English. She grins and starts typing, and although she's a slow typist, eventually I have a response I can read. "He was my boss. He had a wife that was never home. I cleaned his house and he cleaned my-"

I shoot her an incredulous look, not willing to finish that sentence aloud, and she lets out another hearty laugh. "You're no help," I tell her, closing my laptop with a huff and crossing my arms. "Go wash the dishes, Maria."

I don't think she understands _that_, either. But she does at least leave the room.

I grab my cell phone and reread Spencer's message.

Okay, I can totally do this. So…I have a crush on Spencer, and she has a crush on me. No big deal. She doesn't have to know. We won't cross any lines. We'll just stay friends, and I'll get over this. Maybe I could even introduce Spencer to a nice girl she can hit it off with.

Who am I kidding; I don't know any nice girls.

But still. Me and Spencer…not an option. No offense to myself or anything, but…I'm a whore. And Spencer's probably a virgin. I wear low-cut skirts and extremely deep v-necks, and Spencer wears long-sleeved shirts and skinny jeans or appropriate-length shorts. My eyes are plain brown and hers are a twinkly blue. My smiles are forced and hers are open and carefree…

Okay, when did I go from explaining our differences to complimenting Spencer? This is getting ridiculous. I'm in over my head. Maybe I should just flat-out tell her it'd be better if we weren't friends after all. Then again, yesterday… "_Spencer's…she hasn't had a friend in a while."_

Am I really that heartless?

Okay, yes.

But not when it comes to Spencer Carlin. I can't be that mean to her. Not after yesterday.

I end up going to school anyway, because Maria can only entertain me for so long and neither of my parents is home yet, so it's not like I have anything better to do.

I don't get there in time for lunch, and I can't help wondering if that means Spencer ate alone, or if Aiden and Madison have taken to eating with her now whether I'm there or not. I'm assuming the former is what happened, but I don't dwell on it too much. Spencer has been eating lunch alone way before we came along, so I'm sure today was totally normal for her.

Then I feel like a jerk for thinking that.

I get there halfway through fifth period, Trig, and try not to look at to her too much while I'm mumbling some lame excuse to our teacher. We sit across the room from each other, so she doesn't catch up to me until after class. "Hey, why'd you come in late today?" she questions curiously, falling into step next to me.

"Uh…I was up late last night," I reply vaguely, wondering what I'm going to say if she presses me for information.

"Oh? How come?"

Alrighty then. "Um…just doing stuff."

"What kind of stuff?" she teases lightly.

I sigh inwardly. So, one way to take care of this whole "crush" thing would be to exercise some self-control. Another way would be to get _Spencer _to back off. So much for being nice, I suppose. "Sex."

I pretend not to notice when she stops in her tracks. Instead, I let out a long breath and keep on walking.

Problem solved.


	10. Permanent Loan

"Hey, do you mind giving me a ride home?"

Okay, problem _not _solved.

I raise an eyebrow, my hand on my key, which is already in the ignition. Spencer's just appeared next to my car out of nowhere, and we're alone because Madison decided to drive to school today. "Excuse me?"

"Glen's mad at me so he told me to ride the bus. I didn't want to, though, and now the buses have already left anyway."

I thought she was going to leave me alone from now on, especially now that I've kind of proved I'm a bitch by telling her I slept with a girl last night. "Well…how'd you get home before me? Whenever your brother got mad at you."

"He's never gotten mad at me before. He's mad at me now for not listening to him when he told me to stop hanging out with you."

"And why _aren't_ you listening to him?"

She grins, tilting her head to the side. "I think you're hot."

I sigh, leaning over to push the passenger door open. "This is totally a one-time thing. And only because you complimented me."

"Deal." She leans over and turns on the radio. It's already set to my favorite station, and she turns the volume down a little, but doesn't change the station. "So…it's not just Aiden, then; you're kind of a slut?"

I press down on the brakes, turning to look at her. "You know, we aren't even out of the parking lot yet. I could kick you out."

She smiles sheepishly. "Sorry." She waits until we're out on the road to continue. "But you sleep with a lot of people?"

"Yup," I reply, trying to remember the name of the song playing on the radio right now.

"How long have you been doing that?"

"Since I broke up with Aiden last year."

"Oh."

I smirk at her. "Let me guess: you think I'm a horrible person now and you don't want to be friends anymore?"

"Uh, if that were the case, I wouldn't have asked you for a ride," she points out, crossing her arms and tilting her head back. Her eyes flutter shut. "No, I think there's good in everyone." I snort, and she opens her eyes again, grinning at me. "What? There is. It's just harder to find in some people."

"Good luck finding it in me," I retort, rolling my eyes.

She just smiles some more. "Already have."

"When?"

"Yesterday. You were totally being nice to those kids."

"Who wouldn't be?"

"A lot of people. You're totally a huge softie on the inside."

"I am not!" I exclaim, feeling my cheeks heating up again. I'm blushing…again. A second later, I'm glaring at her, angry she's making me feel this way. "Look, why don't you just leave me alone, okay?"

She looks taken aback. "Now _you _sound like my brother. Bipolar, much?"

"I'm not kidding," I tell her. "Look, we've only been talking for a week or so. It's not like it'd be a big deal if we both went back to how things were beforehand."

"Why would you want that? I thought we were having fun."

We're at her house now. "Just…get out of the car, Spencer."

She crosses her arms. "Maybe I don't want to."

"Maybe you should get over your stupid little crush on me. Leave me alone," I growl at her. She blinks at me, and I maintain my glare while her cheeks redden with embarrassment. "You have fun at the nursing home, and meanwhile, I think I'll get back to sleeping with people I hardly know, alright?"

"Fine," she spits out, shoving the door open and storming away. I lean over and pull it shut, then drive off in the direction of Gray without looking back.

By the time Friday finally comes, I haven't spoken to Spencer at all, Aiden's dropping not-so subtle hints that involve me coming over to his house again as soon as possible, and Madison…well, she's her usual self.

"So Sherry was all, 'I'm lighter, why don't you put me on the top of the pyramid instead at tonight's game?'" Our whole lunch table scoffs or shakes their heads, and Madison replies, "I know, right? So she's totally not allowed to sit with us anymore. I'm thinking about kicking her off the squad."

"She definitely weighs more than you, babe," Aiden contributes, glancing over at me as he wraps an arm around Madison's shoulders and leans over to kiss her on the cheek. Is he seriously trying to make me jealous?

"Where are you going, Ash?" Madison asks, furrowing her eyebrows when she sees me standing up. That draws everyone else's attention to me.

"My mom's coming home for tonight; I'm gonna head back there earlier so I can grab some money from her before she leaves," I half-lie, swinging my bag over my shoulder and leaving my tray for someone else to throw away. I do need money, since Christine will probably be gone for another couple of months after today and I won't see her for a while, but if I'm not there to take it in person she just leaves it on my nightstand or something.

Truthfully, Madison and Aiden are just even more unbearable than usual this week. I'm kind of wondering how I managed to survive on basically only talking to them for the past two years. It's like talking to Spencer has spoiled me; now I need someone with half a brain to hold a conversation with.

But we're ignoring each other at this point, and things are clearly better this way. Glen and Clay don't have to worry about Spencer actually having a friend for once, her parents don't have to worry about her hanging out with mean ol' Ashley Davies, and Aiden and Madison don't have to worry about being seen with a "loser".

Granted, Spencer obviously isn't too happy with me for calling her out on her crush and basically telling her to buzz off. I figured that out when I had a temporary lapse in thought and waved at her in class yesterday. Her glare practically burned two holes in my skull. So yeah, she's mad, even though she said before that being mad is a waste of time, which tells me that she's pissed and obviously a simple apology isn't going to work this time. But that makes it easier to avoid her, so at least it means fewer problems for me. In a way, I miss her, though.

When I get home, Christine's yelling at Maria, who looks absolutely baffled at the entire situation. "I said I wanted chicken!" Maria's holding a polo shirt. I have no idea where she got it.

"Hey, Mom," I offer dully, tossing my car keys on the kitchen counter. She turns to face me, hands on her hips. "How was your vacation?"

"Ashley, what's wrong with this woman?"

"Her name's Maria, and _you _hired her. She doesn't speak English."

"Well, evidently she doesn't speak Spanish either, because I said I wanted polo, and I got _this_."

"Mom, chicken is pollo. Two L's. When you pronounce them they sound like a Y. You asked her for a shirt." I shoot Maria an apologetic look, and she sighs to herself, turning to go put the shirt away. Mom catches her by the arm before she can move, though.

"I don't think so. You're fired."

I can tell by the look on Maria's face that that phrase must be universal. My eyebrows furrow. "Mom, she didn't do anything wrong." I've actually become kind of attached to Maria over the past two weeks, even with the language barrier. At least she makes an _effort _to understand me. The other maids just say "no comprendo" and scurry away to watch Spanish soap operas.

"She's clearly incapable of following basic instructions. I want her out of here by tomorrow." Christine digs through her purse for a moment, then pulls out a wad of cash and shoves it into my hand. "Ashley, make me lunch or I'm taking your car away." I shoot her an indignant look, and she rolls her eyes at me. "Don't test me."

I fling my backpack onto the floor and walk past Maria to go make a sandwich while Christine goes to sit at the table. I spit in it when she isn't paying attention, then try not to smile a minute later as I watch her take a bite.

"Have you heard from your father?"

"He's supposed to call me tonight," I reply, pulling my phone out of my pocket almost unconsciously and flipping it open and closed a few times just to do something with it. "Why?"

She shrugs indifferently. "He left me some kind of message, something about that ridiculous band of his. I couldn't make it out; there was too much noise in the background."

"Right," I say shortly, heading for the stairs now that I've spent my ten minutes of time with Christine for the month. I have to fight off the urge to say "see you in thirty days", but then she'd probably go all Super Mom on me and try to get me to clean my room or something.

Luckily, she leaves me be, and I lay down on my bed and ignore texts from Aiden while clutching my phone in one hand and my mp3 player in the other, listening to music on full blast. I don't know whether or not Christine tries to shout anything up to me before she leaves, but I do know that by ten o'clock, she's gone, and I probably won't see her for quite a while. She gets on my nerves anyway, though, so that's okay.

Then I remember Maria.

I tiptoe downstairs silently, wincing when I hear muffled sobbing coming from the living room.

She's on the couch when I find her, her head in her hands and her elbows on her knees, and the sobs are most definitely coming from her.

"Hey," I say tentatively, poking her arm and then sitting down next to her, facing her carefully as she sits up and looks at me. There are tear streaks on her cheeks. "Don't…" I sigh, unable to remember the word for "cry". "It'll be okay," I say instead.

She just shakes her head again and goes back to hiding her face, sobbing something out about "mi familia", and I bite my lip, resting my hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sure they'll be fine. There are plenty of jobs around here. You can find another one," I offer even though I know she doesn't understand, and she keeps on shaking her head. Her cries only increase in volume, and I look around hastily as though I'll find something lying around that will make her calm down. My eyes settle on my bulging pocket, where I shoved the money Christine gave me. "Alright, alright, look…" I finally say, tapping her to get her attention and then pulling out the money. It was meant to last _me _a month, so there's definitely a lot here. But I guess I still have some left over from Christine's last "loan" to me, so I could probably survive another month on that until I see my mom again. Plus, my dad's visiting tomorrow and he could give me some. I can totally afford to do this. "Here," I tell her, offering it to her.

She looked surprised, then quickly pushes my hand away, shaking her head again. "No, no…"

"Yes," I press, shoving it all into her hands and refusing to take it back. "Keep it. I don't need it." I force a smile. "Really."

She stares at me for a moment, then glances back down at the money. "Gracias," she finally says, sounding slightly in awe, and I stand up, giving her a short nod.

"No problem."

With that, I turn and head back to my room, shooting Maria one last smile before I disappear up the steps. She smiles back.

I'm pretty sure this is the last time I'll ever see her.

At least someone will have a good last memory of me.


	11. DUI

Dad calls me around midnight, and if I wasn't used to this, I'd already be asleep. Instead, I'm surfing the web when he calls, and I pick up the phone in my bedroom on the first ring.

"Dad?"

"_Hey, Ashley. How's my favorite girl holding up?"_

"Pretty good," I say neutrally. "I saw Mom today."

_"Oh, really? Did she have fun on her vacation?"_

"Yeah, I guess. I asked but she didn't answer."

_"Oh, okay. Well…did she say anything to you?"_

"Not particularly. Why?"

_"Nothing about me?"_

I laugh. "Just that you left her some message and she couldn't understand it." I straighten up a little on my bed, smiling into the phone. "So when's your flight getting here tomorrow? What are we doing this weekend?"

He clears his throat in a manner that makes my smile falter. "_Well, actually…" _He takes a deep breath. My smile's totally gone by now. _"See, I figured your mother would tell you, but since she didn't get the message-"_

"Wait, why couldn't you tell me yourself?" I question, trying not to sound angry with him. He sighs.

_"It's just…listen, Ashley. The band and I have been playing a few shows and they've gone really well. My manager wants us to go on tour for a little while. So I won't be home tomorrow…or next weekend…" _

The way he trails off makes my eyebrows furrow. "Wait, so how long _will _you be gone? Three weeks? Four?"

There's a pause. _"Five months." _

I hang up the phone immediately, then throw it across the room as hard as I can, seething. It hits the wall and breaks into several pieces, and I'm already storming out of the house by the time it even dawns on me that Maria has left with all of this month's money and so I can't afford a new one. At least it was the house phone.

I grab my keys on my way to the front door and start my car the second I'm in the driver's seat, backing out of my driveway and then speeding down the road towards Gray.

Five months without seeing my dad. _Five months_ without hanging out with him by our bridge, or going to the concert of some band we both love together, or even of just sitting in my dad's in-house studio, playing guitar and singing together. Nothing.

For the next five months, I'm alone.

"I can't pay for this," I warn Kat even as I'm gulping down my beer. She leans forward and pats my shoulder, shooting me a sympathetic look. I'm starting to see double. I ignore that.

"It's okay, kiddo. I'll put it on a tab and you pay whenever you can."

Sometime between beer number one and beer number three, I explained everything to her: Maria, my mom being her usual bitchy self, and my dad's five-month tour, along with Aiden trying to make me jealous, Madison being a superficial idiot, and the way Spencer's stares have turned into glares over the past week after what I said to her.

"I don't have anybody," I tell her, resting my forehead on the bar while I clutch the empty beer bottle in my hand. "My mom hates me, my dad's gone, Madison's never given a shit about me anyway, Aiden just wants to fuck, and I totally blew Spencer off when she was just trying to be nice to me."

"Why?" she questions, trying to shrink me again.

"Why what?" I'm too drunk for this.

"Why did you blow Spencer off?" God, why does she have to make this about Spencer? It's not. It's about how much my life sucks.

"'Cause she makes me blush," I mumble, closing my eyes because it makes me feel less dizzy. Kat laughs from in front of me.

"I think you came to the wrong place, honey."

"Huh?" I lift my head and try to sit up, squeezing my eyes shut for a moment before I open them again.

Kat just pats me on the shoulder like usual and leaves to go serve someone else.

I nearly trip over my own feet when I try to stand up, but then I take a deep breath and get my bearings. A few blinks later and I can see almost perfectly clearly. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's holding my alcohol.

There's a girl that looks vaguely familiar checking me out, and I know I've probably slept with her before. Normally, I don't do repeats, but tonight I'll make an exception.

We're in a bathroom stall ten minutes later, making out while she's got my back pressed into the door, and I'm trying to keep my thoughts collected, used to being in control in these kinds of situations.

I open my eyes and see blue ones staring back at me. Lips press against mine urgently and when my hands run through hair, it's straight and blonde.

It takes me a second to remember the girl I'm kissing has brown eyes and hair.

"No," I groan out, pushing her away for a second to recover. This isn't how this is supposed to go.

"What's wrong?" she asks me in a voice that isn't the one I want to hear, and I groan again and turn around quickly, shaking my head and unlocking the stall door.

I'm back in my car a minute later, gripping the steering wheel with both hands and resting my head against the top of it. I can hear my own breathing and my heart pounding in my chest and I feel like I might puke at any second. I probably shouldn't drive right now.

I collect myself and do it anyway.

Spencer's house is only a few minutes away, and the lights are all off when I get there. I park across the street in my usual spot and head to the side of Spencer's house, looking up at that window with the pink curtains.

After a moment, I search the ground and grab a small rock, taking aim as well as I can in my current state, then chucking it up into the air. I hear a light tap that makes it sound like the rock hit glass, to my surprise, but then I lose sight of it completely, frowning when I don't hear it land on the ground.

Then it hits me on the top of the head, hard. I blink a few times, stunned, before everything goes black and I crumple to the ground.


	12. New Friend

The first thing I see when I open my eyes is a ceiling. The sun hasn't come up yet, but wherever I am, it has a soft bed.

The throbbing in my head finally registers and I let out a soft groan, forcing myself to sit up and try to take a look around. But my vision's blurry, and before I can get more than a couple blinks in to try to clear it, my stomach makes a funny sound and I immediately know what's coming.

A bucket is right in front of me all of a sudden, and I empty the contents of my stomach directly into it, cringing when my throat burns and tears begin to collect at the corners of my eyes. I'm a big baby when it comes to throwing up; that's part of the reason why I usually don't go past my limit whenever I drink.

I don't remember anything after leaving Gray. But I do remember thinking about Spencer while kissing another girl, and so I have a logical guess as far as where I could be right now.

"Close your eyes," a familiar voice whispers into my ear, softly and gently, and I obey without question, listening as a person I'm sure is Spencer slips off of the bed and pads across the room. A moment later, I see orange instead of black. She's turned the light on.

A second later, she's sitting beside me again, holding my hair back with one hand and rubbing my back with the other. "Are you okay?"

I clench my teeth and shake my head, interrupting whatever she was about to add by puking into the bucket again. More tears leak out of the corners of my eyes, and I sniff quietly, embarrassed that she's seeing me like this. Why the hell did I come here?

After a few moments of silence, I manage a hoarse, "Thanks", letting my eyes flutter open and adjust to the light. Spencer's eyes meet mine and she smiles.

"Here." A bottle of water and some aspirin is offered to me. I accept it gratefully and swallow the pills, washing them down with a couple of sips of water and wincing when my head gives another painful throb. "So…" The corners of Spencer's lips turn upward. "You have no idea how hard it was to get you in here. Care to tell me why I found you passed out outside my bedroom window?"

I shake my head, forcing a smile. "Don't remember."

"Hmm." She glances over at the bucket. "Well, I'm going to guess you were drunk. Do you remember why _that _is?"

I blink a few times, my heart sinking. "Yeah."

She's still rubbing my back and I can't decide whether I want her to stop or not. "…Care to explain?"

I shake my head again. "Not really."

She laughs lightly, reaching for the bucket. "Alright. I'm gonna go wash this out. It'll be right next to the bed if you need it, okay?"

I nod wordlessly, watching her walk to her bedroom door with the bucket.

"I have a spare toothbrush; you can brush your teeth if you want," she informs me before she leaves. "The bathroom's right down the hall; you just have to be quiet. I'd probably be in trouble if anyone caught you here."

I nod again, slipping off of her bed and putting a hand on the wall to steady myself once I'm up. I'm wearing the same clothes, which means Spencer didn't take the opportunity to change me so she could get a glimpse of my naked body. I'm kind of grateful for that.

My head throbs again and I raise a hand to it, wincing when I feel a small bump on the top near the back. I don't just have a hangover; _something _must've hit me there. Maybe I got into a bar fight. That'd actually be awesome. I'll have to ask Kat next time I see her.

I find the bathroom and search the cabinet for an extra toothbrush, finally finding one that hasn't even been opened yet and grabbing some toothpaste to help get rid of my bad breath.

When I get back to Spencer's room, she's waiting on her bed, picking at her blanket. She raises her head when I stop in the doorway, then tilts her head to the side and pats the bed next to her. "You should probably stay here. You're not exactly in the best state to drive home."

I don't really want to stay here, but she's right. I already risked a DUI once tonight; I probably shouldn't push my luck. "Why are you being nice to me?"

She forces a smile, shrugging. "Maternal instinct kind of kicked in when I saw you passed out under my window."

I catch a glimpse of Spencer's clock and notice it's after three in the morning. I turn her bedroom light off without an explanation and climb back onto her bed, slipping under the covers and closing my eyes a moment later. Spencer chuckles beside me for some reason, then settles down too and lies down next to me.

"This doesn't mean we're friends," I warn her with furrowed eyebrows, rolling over so that I'm facing away from her. "I still don't want to have anything to do with you," I add on harshly, just in case my first statement didn't get the point across as strongly as I wanted. Now that I've stopped hanging out with her, it makes it easier to forget about how she made me feel. I don't want to fall back into being as vulnerable as I was the day I went to the orphanage with her. I don't want to be mean to her, but I have to be to keep her from getting too close, and to keep _myself _from getting too attached.

"Okay," is all she says, quietly.

The next morning, the sun is shining, birds are chirping…Spencer is shaking me awake.

"Hey, um…Ashley?"

"Ughn…" I groan in response, elbowing her to try and get her to back away. She doesn't let up.

"Ashley…we kind of overslept. It's 9:56 and my parents always get me up at ten on the weekends!"

_That _wakes me up. "What?"

"You have to get out of here," she hisses, yanking the covers off of me in an effort to help me get up faster.

I slip out of the bed and immediately stumble, pressing my hand to Spencer's wall to steady myself again. Yeah, that hangover? Still here.

Spencer runs a hand through her hair, staring at me for a moment, then mutters, "Okay, I'll go make sure the coast is clear and you can just-"

"Rise and shine, Spence!"

I recognize the voice; it's Spencer's dad. He accompanies the order with a quick knock to the door, then, without warning, pushes it open to peek into Spencer's room.

This looks bad. I know it, Spencer knows it, and Spencer's dad _definitely _knows it. And he doesn't look happy. In fact, he looks angry. One glance at his expression tells me that he's definitely aware of the fact that Spencer's gay, and another glance tells me that "this isn't what it looks like" probably isn't going to be accepted as an answer. A believable one, anyway. I'm completely disheveled and neither I nor Spencer look like we got a lot of sleep last night. In parent language, that means we had sex. Which means I can practically see the wheels turning in this man's mind, and the conclusion he's heading straight towards is that Spencer and I are secret lovers or something crazy like that. I told her I didn't even want to be _friends _with her last night.

So how do we get out of this unscathed?

I have no idea.

Spencer opens and closes her mouth a few times, then finally growls, "Get out."

My eyebrows raise and I marvel at the fact that Spencer would talk to her father like that…until I realize she's talking to me. Wow. This is strangely reminiscent of my morning with that clingy girl who…_ah_…

"I thought we had a connection!" I sob out, immediately covering my face with my hands while trying not to burst into laughter. Spencer seriously might be a genius.

"It was just a booty call," she deadpans with a completely straight face, pointing towards the doorway, which is still occupied by her father. "You can go now."

Without further ado, I let out another wail and flee from the room, pushing past Spencer's dad, who stands there stunned while I immediately race for the front door the second he's out of sight. Within a minute, I'm in my car, speeding down the street with a hangover while still trying to wrap my mind around what just happened.

In seconds, Spencer thought of a solution that not only leaves her to take all the rap for last night, but also gives me the option of still being able to avoid her from now on if I want. _And _she made sure it was done in a way that was familiar enough to me that I'd be able to play along without getting confused.

Yeah, she's definitely a genius.

I text her once I'm home: _"Spencer Carlin, I think I might love you."_

Her response comes just a few minutes later. _"Well, you don't have to love me, but you _do _owe me…again. My parents now think I'm a whore."_

_ "Orphanage Monday afternoon?" _I propose.

_"You're talking to me again?"_

_ "Yeah. I need somewhere to go when I'm drunk."_

_ "Lol." _I kind of wish I could hear her laugh right now. _"Alright. I'm grounded for a week, nothing except for my phone, so I can't go to the orphanage Monday. Maybe some other time?"_

I can't believe I'm doing this. I'll chock it up to not wanting to be alone for the next five months when I look back on today, but right now, I'm honestly looking forward to spending time with someone who could actually turn out to be my first _real _friend. So what if we both have a thing for each other? I have _plenty_ of self-control, and it's clear that Spencer won't cross that line with me. She's way too nice to even try. _"Definitely."_

I have faith in my walls.

Just try and knock them down, Spencer Carlin. I dare you.


	13. Skipping Rocks

"So is he like…any _good_?"

"Aiden?" I can't help chuckling as I throw another rock into water, watching it sink to the bottom with a soft _plop_. Spencer's next rock skips three times before it sinks, and I wrinkle my nose, finally pausing to answer her question. "Better than other guys, I guess."

I apologized to Spencer for the things I said, and we've been hanging out for the past two weeks now. Madison's angry at me for going back to Spencer, Aiden thinks I'm a little crazy but still talks to me anyway because he's in love with me after all, and Spencer…well, I'm starting to realize she's kind of awesome.

"I really don't see how you can stand it," she sighs out, throwing another rock a little more forcefully than her last one. I notice it sinks on impact. "Guys are gross."

"Well, seeing as you're a lesbian, it kind of makes sense that you'd think guys are gross, Spence," I point out with a smirk. She rolls her eyes at me and throws another rock. I think if we keep doing this for another two hours, we'll end up filling this entire part of the creek up with rocks. It's getting dark out, though, and Spencer has to get home soon. Her family doesn't know she hangs out with me, let alone that she's with me right _now_. We don't even eat lunch together every day anymore, because her brothers might see us. I kind of like it better this way, though; taking breaks from Spencer helps with this whole "being attracted to her" problem.

"Well, Aiden's just…I don't know." She shudders. "Worse than other guys, in my opinion."

I shrug. "Not in bed. But only because I'm so comfortable with him."

"Ugh." She sighs now, dropping the remainder of her rocks and then turning to face me. I notice she looks a little bit more anxious now. "What about girls?"

I snort before I can stop myself, meeting her questioning gaze. "Don't you know?"

She shakes her head, embarrassed. "I'm a virgin."

"Oh." I assumed, but somehow, having it confirmed is a little different. "Well, uh…I guess you'd like it better than doing a guy, of course. _I _do, but I guess it's just personal preference. Like how when you kiss a girl it's different than kissing a guy, you know?"

She blushes this time as she gives me another head-shake. "No. I've never kissed anyone, either. Boy or girl."

I gape at her. "You're kidding."

"Nope."

"Spencer, you're sixteen!"

"Sixteen and never been kissed," she admits, shrugging.

I raise an eyebrow. "And why not? It's not like you're repulsive or something."

She forces a laugh. "Thanks. It's just…you know, my parents, family, all that."

"_You _haven't been kissed, and that's your family's fault? No, Spencer, that's all on you," I correct. "You could totally sneak in a quick peck behind their backs if you really wanted."

She blushes again, then replies, "Yeah, I guess so. It's just that anyone who's ever been interested in me at all learned pretty fast not to come near me. And from there it basically just spread and pretty soon everyone knew not to talk to me or else they'd have my brothers to deal with. So…no friends at all for me, and especially not a girlfriend." She grins at me all of a sudden, brushing the story off like it's nothing. "I guess I just had to wait around for someone disrespectful and rebellious enough to ignore them to come along."

"Yeah, well…" I trail off awkwardly, scratching the back of my head. Spencer shifts a little from her spot a few feet away from me, and eventually, I clear my throat. "I've never had a girlfriend either, so don't feel too bad."

She looks confused. "You haven't? Why not?"

"Well, first of all, I'm not out. And secondly, I don't _date _girls; I sleep with them."

"Oh."

"Besides, I like things how they are now; no commitment. Aiden's decent in bed but he annoys the shit out of me. And what's the point of coming out anyway if I don't want a girlfriend? I'd just lose the support of the populars, and I'd gain nothing I'm interested in," I point out.

Spencer wrinkles her nose. "I don't see why you like them."

I shoot her an incredulous look. "Spencer, _please _give me more credit than that. I can't stand any of them. Even Madison drives me crazy ninety percent of the time."

"I thought she was your best friend."

"I've slept with her boyfriend on several occasions. Obviously, we're not that close."

"So…who _are _you friends with, then?"

I actually take the time to consider her question. "Um…well, you, I suppose," I finally answer, looking over at her. "And since I don't really have anyone else…guess you're my bestie now."

She grins at that. "I've never had a best friend before."

"You're such a dork," I retort. She laughs, and we fall into a comfortable silence after that. The creek continues to trickle along, and I watch Spencer watch it. "So you've _really_ never been kissed?"

"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

I roll my eyes at her. "I didn't mean it like _that_." I mean that I'm contemplating suggesting that I can just kiss her on the spot right now, if she really wants to get her first kiss over with. But we're kind of best friends now, apparently, and I'm pretty sure friends don't do stuff like that. Plus, that would totally go against the idea of _not _acting on whatever feelings I may have for her. "So we should probably get you home, right? Your parents will freak if you're not back by eight."

She sighs. "Yeah. It sucks having a curfew."

"Not having enough freedom is better than having too much," I respond, shoving my hands in my pockets as we both turn to leave the creek. "Trust me."

"No, I'd totally give anything to be able to do whatever I wanted," she retorts. "I'd do something valuable with the extra time."

"Like cure world hunger?" I question, grinning at her.

"Oh, shut up." She shoves me to punctuate her order, but it's playful.

"You're totally going to be a nun when you grow up," I predict knowingly. "Or a saint. Saint Spencer."

The smile on her face fades a little, and after a moment, she shrugs again. "Yeah. Maybe."

"What, you don't think so?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at her. I notice there's a leaf in her hair, compliments of the trees around us, and I reach over to pick it out, twirling it by the stem absentmindedly while I wait for a reply.

"I don't know," she says. I let go of the leaf and let it join the others crunching under our feet.

A glimpse at the uncertain look on her face has me frowning. "_What_?" Then I roll my eyes, brushing her off. "You're so strange sometimes."

"I just…I guess I don't know what I want to be when I grow up," she clarifies.

"Well…you could always do the easy thing," I suggest with a smile. "Be whatever your parents want. I think that's what I might do. My dad wants me to get into the music industry, like him, but I also happen to really enjoy playing in the first place so it all works out."

"My parents haven't talked to me about my future," she admits quietly, her eyes on the ground as we walk.

"Why not? No college fund? Nothing?" I press. She shrugs for what feels like the millionth time.

"Maybe something small."

"Well, do you _want _to go to college?"

"Kind of. I don't know."

I furrow my eyebrows. "Spencer, you're being extremely vague today."

She rolls her eyes at me, grinning teasingly. "Well, _some _of us don't know what we want." Then she speeds up, shooting me one last grin over her shoulder as she reaches my waiting car and hops into the passenger's seat.

"Yeah," I agree quietly, unable to take my eyes off of her.


	14. Sneaking In

_"And then I dove right into the crowd, guitar still in my hands, and played the whole solo while crowd-surfing! They loved it!"_

"That's great, dad," I say with as much enthusiasm as I can muster. He notices something's up, though, and if my _dad _notices something's wrong with me, that means I'm definitely doing a bad job of hiding it. What he probably won't be able to figure out is that I'm still upset about him going on that tour.

_"How are you holding up, Ashley? Has your mother been by yet?"_

"No," I respond with a sigh, pressing my phone harder into my ear. "She'll probably stay the night sometime next week, week after next…somewhere around there." I'm lying. She won't be back for two months at the least, and I'm getting my next wad of cash from her in the mail. I hope it comes soon, because I'm running out of food and gas and I only have like twenty bucks left. I don't know whether I regret giving that money to Maria or not.

_"Well, I'm sure she can't wait to see you." _I almost laugh. _"But hey, one of our shows is in LA, you know, so you can probably come see me in a couple of months or so. I can get you and some friends backstage passes."_

"Yeah," I agree halfheartedly, nodding even though he can't see it. Somehow, I doubt Spencer would feel comfortable at a Purple Venom concert. And even if she was cool with going, her family would never allow it. "Maybe."

_"Alright, well the boys are up for some poker; I'll call you again as soon as I can, okay?"_

"Okay," I say, sighing again. "I love y-"

He hangs up.

I clench the phone tighter in my hand and draw my knees up to my chest, then rest my chin on them while I look around my room. There's a Purple Venom poster on my wall, near the door, and I get to my feet and head for the exit, tearing the poster down with one hand on my way out of the room.

When I was younger, Christine was actually around, for the most part. As I got older, she went off and did her own thing, and my father started his weekend visits. So I guess, in a way, I always had at least one parent paying some kind of attention to me. Now, those weekends with my dad are everything, and without them, I feel almost empty. This is my fourth one in a row without him.

Our new maid is on the couch, eating cheetos and watching (no surprise here) Spanish soap operas. She's blonde, and, despite her love of food, extremely skinny, so I call her Shakira. She doesn't speak English. Once again, that's not a surprise.

She doesn't look at me as I cross the living room, or as I grab my car keys, or even as I leave through the front door.

I'm quickly realizing that Spencer could be good for me. Because normally in this situation, I would be heading to Gray to get buzzed, but right now, I find myself driving to her house instead.

I throw a couple rocks at her window and wait a few seconds, shoving my hands into the pockets of my shorts when I hear the window sliding open. Spencer's face peeks down at me, then disappears a moment later. I head around to the backdoor and she meets me there.

Okay, so I've done this before. Just a couple of times in the past three weeks, though. The past two weekends, to be specific. After every time my dad's called me.

Spencer's like my own personal happy pill.

We haven't been caught a second time yet, though, because I'm always gone by morning. She never mentions these nights in regular conversation and neither do I. It's like something we both know happens but it'd be kind of awkward to talk about outside of the moment itself.

She gives me a small smile and I let her lead me up to her room, and we don't say anything until we're both on Spencer's bed and I'm lying down while she runs her fingers through my hair. It feels good so I don't stop her. "Are you okay?" she eventually whispers.

I shoot her a knowing look, and she smiles sheepishly. She knows I'm not okay; like I said: third weekend in a row. I don't do this unless I'm upset.

I let out a small sigh and close my eyes, completely oblivious to everything except for the feel of Spencer's fingers for a moment…then I realize how un-friendlike the thoughts I'm having are and I'm pretty sure my cheeks go pink. I'm getting used to this whole blushing thing, but I'm still glad it's dark in here.

I hear Spencer take a breath, and then she asks, "So as much as I enjoy being your security blanket, because, you know, I get to touch you a bunch without you complaining…" I open my eyes to roll them at her, and she smiles. Then her voice softens. "Are you ever going to tell me _why _you come over here every Friday night?"

I shrug. "It's not really that big of a deal, I guess."

"You're hanging out with _me _at midnight, when you could be…I don't know, partying or having fun with the _populars_," she jokes. "It must be huge."

"Shut up," I retort lightly. "You're not all that bad to hang out with."

"I thought I was strange," she teases.

"You are. But I still like you," I say lightly, rolling over to completely face her and snuggling deeper into the pillow under my head. "Now be quiet so I can relax."

"Hmph," she responds, still combing through my hair with her fingers, and I close my eyes again, smiling while Spencer scoots down under the covers too. A moment later, she starts to pull her hand away. Wordlessly, I open my eyes and grab it, then press it to the top of my head again, urging her to continue. She giggles and tugs lightly at a strand of my hair. I crack one eye open this time.

"You're not letting me go to sleep."

"You're at my house with no explanation. For the fourth time now," she replies simply.

I let out a quiet sigh. "I haven't seen my dad in a month. He calls me every Friday night. The night I came over here drunk, he'd called to let me know he won't be back for five months." I give her a small smile. "Only a little over four more to go."

She stares at me for a moment, then scoots in closer, to my surprise, and slides an arm around my midsection, resting her face so close to my neck that I can feel every exhale. "I'm sorry. That sucks," she finally says.

I stare up at the ceiling as I nod. "Yeah." We're both quiet for a moment, just lying here together. Spencer's breath is still tickling my neck and it's making my stomach feel funny. "You'll keep me company though, right?"

"Already on it," she mumbles, tightening her hold on me for emphasis.

I can't help but smile.


	15. Sink or Swim

**A/N: This chapter ends with a cliffhanger, but since I'm posting two chapters, you'll be able to keep reading and find out what happens. Unfortunately, the chapter after this one _also _ends in _another _cliffhanger. Mwahaha, I feel so evil...**

* * *

"Don't peek…"

"I'm not! This blindfold's covering half my face, Ash."

"Well, I had to take necessary precautions," I counter, squeezing her hand with mine and pulling her along behind me. It's been yet another week, and I'm taking advantage of Spencer's only free time: Friday afternoon.

Monday thru Thursday she's obviously busy, and while I've been back to the orphanage with her once like I promised I would, I always feel out of place because those kids just love Spencer so damn much. She's been trying to convince me to give the nursing home a try, but I'm still undecided. I don't really like old people.

On Saturday, Spencer spends the whole day either picking up litter in the local parks or collecting cans of food to give to the homeless. I swear she should be, like, the next president or something. She'd deserve it.

And on Sundays: church. Her family's super religious, according to her, which is part of the reason why it surprised the hell out of her when she came out to them last year and they were all relatively fine with it. I found this out about a week ago when I finally convinced her to give me the full story. She said she's known for almost her whole life that she's gay, but only just recently got the courage to tell someone about it. I'm apparently the first person from school to have discovered this piece of info about her, having spotted her in the library reading that book.

Anyway, our time together outside of school is basically limited to Friday afternoons since volunteer work isn't really my thing, and today, I've chosen to show her somewhere special to me.

She hears the sound of waves and furrows her eyebrows when I finally come to a stop and let go of her hand. "Are we on the beach?"

"Do you feel sand?" I retort with a laugh. She stomps on the ground.

"…No." Then she stomps again. "Wood?"

"No thanks."

She wrinkles her nose. "Gross."

I laugh again and set down the picnic basket in my hand, walking around her and resting my hands on her hips to silently let her know where I am. She tenses up, and I bite my lip and stare at the back of her for a moment, until I realize we've been standing here in silence for the past ten seconds. "Um…here," I offer, reaching up to untie the blindfold, then slowly pulling it away. When I get a good look at her face, she's blinking in surprise.

"It's a bridge."

"It's _the _bridge," I correct, grinning at her. "My dad and I's special spot." After a moment, her cheeks go pink, and she grins back.

"Really? You brought me here?"

"Looks like it." I gesture towards the picnic basket. "I brought food, too. Want some?"

Five minutes later, I'm sitting down on a small blanket with a sandwich in my hand, and Spencer is standing up next to me, leaning out over the wooden safety bar to look down at the waves in the distance. "Can we go down to the beach later on?" she finally asks. It's completely deserted at the moment, which is rare.

"The water's probably freezing," I tell her, raising an eyebrow. "Geez, Spence, you look like you've never seen the ocean before. Haven't you been living in LA for a while now?"

"Since I was eight," she confirms. "But I've never been in the ocean before."

"Why not?" I ask incredulously. Then I frown at her. "If you say anything about your parents not letting you…"

She gives me a sheepish smile instead, shrugging guiltily.

"That's ridiculous," I dub, crossing my arms and setting my sandwich down. "What else have they not let you do? Have you ever eaten a brownie?" I question, pulling one out of the basket for emphasis.

She laughs. "Yeah, _that _I've done." She takes the brownie from me happily. "And I'll gladly do it again."

I roll my eyes at her, standing up while she chomps down on the brownie like it's her last meal. "Come on; you're getting into the water. My dad taught me how to surf when I was younger; I can teach you this summer, or whenever it starts to warm up. In a week or so the water'll be too cold to get in."

"It won't warm up until spring," she points out even as I'm pulling her off of the bridge and we're heading for the beach. "Not for another six months."

"So?" I reply.

She blushes. "You're still going to be talking to me, then?"

I scoff. "Spencer, what's your problem? Have I ever given you reason to think…okay, never mind." I sigh and she gives me a pointed look. "Okay, but seriously. I'm not ditching you this time. I'd be bored out of my mind all the time if I did."

"Bored," she echoes thoughtfully, shaking her head. "Well, maybe if you actually _did _something, you wouldn't be bored all the time."

"Is that why you do all that volunteer work?" I question.

"Nope. Well…sort of. Not really, though. It's complicated."

"Care to explain?" I counter.

She gives me a small smile. "Not really."

I frown, then let go of her hand once we're by the water. Spencer turns away from me and kicks off her shoes, then takes a step towards the ocean, letting the water just barely run over her toes.

"Wait," I say hastily, smirking and flexing my arm muscles. "Do I look any stronger to you? Compared to when we first met?"

She looks confused. "Uh…I don't know. Why?"

"Because, my arms were super weak back then. And I've been working out. Six weeks ago, I couldn't even pick you up." I take a breath. "Sooo…time to see if I've gotten stronger."

"What're you-?" she starts, and that's all she gets out before I sweep her legs out from under her and scoop her up into my arms. She squeals right into my ear and throws her arms around my neck, and I let out a soft puff of air, but otherwise, I've totally got this covered. Spencer might be the lightest sixteen-year-old girl on the planet. It's kind of pathetic that I couldn't even get her inside her own house before.

"Don't drop me, don't drop me…" she's chanting, and I laugh and wade out into the ocean, then abruptly spin us around a couple of times and then release her into the water, which is about up to my chest now.

She comes up spluttering, with her hair all plastered to her head, and cuts me off mid-laugh by tackling me back in the water, getting my hair and the rest of my clothes wet. A wave crashes into us the second we resurface, and while I've got a lot of experience with the ocean and waves, it sends Spencer right back underwater. I grab her hand the second her face goes under and yank her back up, grinning at her when she starts breathing heavily. "Maybe your parents don't let you go into the ocean because you're a total klutz?" I suggest.

She rolls her eyes and pushes me again, lighter this time. I splash her. She pulls an arm back to splash me in return, and I duck under the water quickly, pinching my nose and closing my eyes. My hand finds her ankle and pulls it out from under her, and when I feel several bubbles that signify she's underwater, too, I push up to the surface and swim out of splashing range.

She surfaces a moment later and immediately looks around, trying to find me. When she does, I give her a playful wave, then stick my tongue out at her.

She scoffs. "Oh, _now _you're going to get it."

I blow her a raspberry and then spin around, immediately putting my years of swimming out in the ocean to good use and high-tailing it away from her before she can get close enough to grab me. "Can't catch me, Spence!" I call back when I hear her coming after me. I think I hear her getting closer, so I _really _turn on the jets, and when I hear her panting all the way from somewhere pretty far behind me, I know I've won. "Tired already?" I say cockily, slowing to a stop and treading water while I catch my own breath.

It dawns on me that I can't hear Spencer panting anymore, and when I spin in the water to try to find her, nobody's there.

I swivel around hastily to make sure I'm not just missing her. I don't see anyone.

Shit. _Oh _shit.


	16. A Revealing Recovery

**A/N: I can't give anything away yet but all I'm gonna say is please don't be mad at me for the end of this one... **

* * *

"Spencer!"

I dive forward and head full-speed back to where I last saw her, breathing heavily not only with the effort, but because my heart's going haywire in my chest. Spencer wouldn't mess with me like this; I know she wouldn't.

"Spencer!" I try again, looking around frantically. A few bubbles surfacing in the water to my right catch my eye, and I swim over to them as fast as I can, ducking underwater and trying to open my eyes. It burns a little, and the water's murky anyway. I can't see anything, so I stick an arm out and feel around for a moment, nearly gasping when my fingers feel hair.

I kick my feet and swim down deeper until my hand finds her arm, ignoring the way my lungs are starting to burn as I turn up towards the surface and pump my feet harder, pulling Spencer up with me.

I'm exhausted when I reach the surface, but I only allow myself one quick intake of air before I take Spencer into my arms and swim back towards the beach as fast as I can.

Her eyes are closed and her mouth is open when I collapse on my hands and knees next to her, frantically searching her neck and wrist for a pulse. It's there, and it's strong, too, so I take a moment to calm down while I move her hair out of her face. "Spencer?" I'm just about to try a few chest compressions when her eyelids move briefly, and then her eyes flutter open.

She coughs a few times and spits out several mouthfuls of water, and I immediately find her hand with mine, squeezing lightly and rubbing the back of it with my thumb. She takes a few long breaths, then gives me a shaky smile. "Ow."

"That's not funny," I respond instantly, sitting up straight all of a sudden and pulling my hand away from hers. "In fact, I don't know _what _that was. You…you could've _died_." It doesn't sink in until the words are actually out of my mouth, and I suddenly feel a little light-headed. "Oh God, you could be dead right now, Spence."

"Hey," she says lightly, resting her hand on my thigh to get my attention. "I could be, but I'm not, okay? You saved me."

"B-but…" I stutter out, not sure what to say. "What…I mean, we were having fun and then I turned around and you…what _happened_?"

She furrows her eyebrows, then shrugs. "I don't know. I just remember being really tired and then…here we are."

"Spencer, this is a huge deal," I insist, wondering why she's taking this so lightly. She just seems so…apathetic. It's actually scaring me almost as much as what just happened.

She sighs, her chest rising and falling with more deep breaths. "Well, the way I see it…people are going to die whenever their time comes. It's nothing to freak out about. Obviously, my time hasn't come yet." She reaches up and strokes my cheek with her hand. "But thank you for saving me."

I blink a few times, then pull away from her, shooting her an incredulous look. "Are you crazy? That kind of attitude's going to get you nowhere, and it doesn't sound like you at _all_. You're supposed to say something about not wasting your life and savoring every moment or something." I pause, biting my lip. "Right?"

She opens her mouth, looking surprised, and then a smile spreads across her face. "You _are _learning something from me, after all."

I take a moment to catch my breath, still reeling from all of this. "Please tell me that after almost _drowning_, you didn't _still_ just manage to trick me into saying that."

Her smile widens even further, until her nose even crinkles a little. "I'll get you when you least expect it, Ashley Davies." She lets out another short cough, then struggles to sit up. "But really…" She stares into my wide eyes, then cups my cheek again. "Thank you for saving my life. I don't know what I'd do without you." She leans forward and wraps her arms around me, resting her chin on my shoulder, and after a moment, I return the embrace, finally letting myself relax a little after she kisses me on the cheek. Although my cheek kind of starts to burn a little afterwards.

"I'm never letting you get in the ocean again," I mumble. She chuckles, then coughs again.

"Yeah. I guess there's a method to my parents' madness, after all."

I let out a short sigh. "Let's go home, Spence."

When we're in my car, I can't stop touching her, and judging by the expression on her face, she can tell.

I'm driving home with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on _her _hand. It's getting dark out and the plan is to use my hairdryer to dry off Spencer's clothes, then to drive her over to our school, where she supposedly stayed to make up some essay she missed one day. The essay's fake, but the missed day is real. Spencer misses school a lot because she has a crappy immune system, according to her. My theory is that she skips to do more charity work. Either way, this excuse makes perfect sense and her family will suspect nothing.

Glen's supposed to pick her up from the school in another hour or so, which gives us plenty of time to get her dried off, although I'm not too intent on letting her out of my sight after what happened at the ocean. I feel like if I let go of her, she'll disappear. And I don't know what I'd do if she did. I haven't realized until now how dependent I am on Spencer. I actually might need her in my life at this point.

And not just 'cause I still think she's cute.

So much for that wall I supposedly had.

"Hey, Spence?" I finally ask.

"Yeah?"

"Are you scared to die?"

This is depressing. I don't know why we're still talking about it, or why I even want to know. But I ask anyway.

"A little. But hopefully I'll go to Heaven."

I raise an eyebrow. "You believe in all that?" Right. Of course she does; she goes to church every Sunday.

"I think I do," she replies with a shrug.

I shoot her a knowing smirk. "So _that's _why you do all that charity work; so you can get into Heaven! Aha!"

She sticks her tongue out at me. "That's totally not why I do it."

"Then why?" I question for what feels like the hundredth time.

She just smiles at me. "I'll tell you one day."

"When?"

"I don't know. When I feel like it."

"Promise?"

"Yup."

"Okay." I nod at her, shutting my car off because we're in my driveway now. "Time to get you out of these wet clothes."

She fakes a gasp. Wait, no…it's real. "You totally just hit on me with a line from The O.C."

"That was from The O.C.?" I question. She raises an eyebrow at me. "I mean, I wasn't _hitting _on you. Psh."

She smirks and gets out of the car, and I hurry after her, stopping next to her when we get to my front door. I look down at my own semi-wet outfit, then over at Spencer's, eventually raising my eyes to hers. "You sure you'll be okay?" I finally ask.

"Don't worry," she replies gently, stepping in closer to me. She gives me a long hug and I feel my cheeks heat up. "I feel fine now. Great, even."

"You don't need, like, professional help or anything?"

She giggles. "Not for this."

"That's my line," I say quietly, reaching for her hand and lacing our fingers together. She just stands there with a silly grin on her face, just inches away from my own, and for a second, I swear her eyes fall to my lips. But then they jump back up to mine and she steps away, letting go of my hand. My eyes find my feet.

"So I guess we should go inside. If we don't get back to the school in time and my parents find out about this, they'll kill me. And my brothers will kill _you_."

"They glare at me a lot in school," I mumble as I unlock the front door with the spare key under the mat.

"They think you took my virginity," Spencer informs me. I don't know why that statement makes me suppress a shudder. And not the unpleasant kind of shudder, either. "Because my parents started questioning me about you after you left that one morning and I didn't want them thinking I was a slut so I told them you were the first one. I don't think my dad believed me, since he saw our little show in my bedroom and I'm obviously an _amazing _actress, but with a little more convincing everyone else in my family did. So, for the most part, they think I'm not a virgin and I lost it to you."

"So…I'm guessing I won't exactly make a good family friend at this point?" I question.

"I'm afraid not. But at the time I didn't think you'd be hanging around me anymore anyway."

"Wait," I say suddenly, looking over at her. "If your brothers think we slept together…why aren't they telling people at school about me?"

"Well, they don't have any real proof unless they say you slept with _me_, and that would involve outing me, which they don't want to do. So your secret's safe as long as mine is."

"Cool," I say as we arrive in my bathroom. I grab my hairdryer out of a cabinet and plug it into the wall. There's an awkward silence as I look down at Spencer's clothes. Then I clear my throat. "Right, so…I'll leave so you can, you know."

She blushes, then nods, turning away from me and flipping the switch on the hairdryer while I leave the bathroom and close the door behind myself.

I sit down on my bed and grab my phone, glad I left it at home today. I have a missed call from my mom, and a text from Aiden asking if I'm busy tonight. I roll my eyes and flip my phone closed, setting it down on my nightstand and then lying back and staring up at my ceiling.

I wonder if Spencer needs any towels. There aren't any in the bathroom; I remember using the last one when I took a shower last night. I should go get her another.

I get off my bed and hurry downstairs. The maid is nowhere to be found but I trust that she's done the laundry.

Sure enough, when I get to the laundry room, there's a large pile of towels amongst the piles of clean clothes. I grab a towel off the top and head upstairs, where I can still hear the hairdryer running, then knock on the bathroom door, but I guess she can't hear me over the hairdryer. "Spence?" I knock again, louder, then sigh when I don't get an answer and just push the door open instead. I peek inside. "Hey, Spence, I thought you might need a-"

Spencer spins around, still wearing a bra and underwear, but her eyes are wide and her mouth is open. I interrupt myself to gasp.

Her upper body is covered in bruises.


End file.
